There is something pure about anger. A white hot furnace of truth. A position reflecting the heart. Anger is honest. That is, it can't be easy to have dishonest anger so by process of elimination. What then is anger, wrath cannot exist for the purpose of wrath. Where is the shame and the hurt? the affront and sadness. When the fires of rage are exhausted, when the fuel is gone, what is left?
This fire analogy is an apt one. It describes what happens. The anger passes. Try to see what is left, see what is underneath. See the pride and shame and the ever testing trials of flaws we have no say on but to grow through. Remember the pain of growing, of the difficulty of moving to a new place. The mind and soul, or however you wish to identify them, are not dissimilar to the body, they grow, sometimes it takes a while to catch up. Sometimes they may never quite get there.
And in so keeping with what is anger it begins in white hotness and now on this packed train of people who are not people, with space all around me there is the inevitable depression that is regrowth. Phoenix are beautiful.
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