Went through a nice, long period of learning to be more spiritual in my 40s. It was great to acquire more knowledge, go within and strive to wipe out anger.

Now, with the dawn of 50 a month ago (and maybe a little before), I realize anger is healthy and often more than appropriate. Where I used to think it was a compliment to be called a “class act” in certain situations, now I  see it as another way of saying “You really took that kick in the teeth well. Thank you for not expressing what you’re really feeling because that would have made me so uncomfortable.”

Uh huh.

I am so over the B.S. This whole idea of writing under the heading of “Unfettered 50” is like a get-out-of-jail-free card.

I am a person who sees the good in people, the glass half-full in most scenarios, the unfolding of a wonderful Universal plan and profound joy in simple things. But sometimes I am so angry I mutter things that would make a hip hop artist blush and sputter. I would almost certainly not lay a finger on another human being in anger, but every so often I have luscious fantasies of people twisting in the wind and, wait for it … I am the wind.

I am so immensely proud of the spiritual path I’m on and even more proud that I have reached a place of real. I’m not pretending I want everyone who darkens my door as a client. I’m not pretending every pitch in my mailbox is a good fit for my column. I’m not pretending any more that it’s OK for a guy to look at me with longing goo-goo eyes when his status is “married” or “in a relationship.”

Boundaries. Respect. Release. Love of self.

Anger. Zen.

All of it.

Fresh start.