The Demon Within

How can I properly articulate the demon that is nestled between my ears? How can I explain the tenacity of his vigor, the strength of his whisper, the force he uses with the utterance of an urge?

Falling to my knees I am confined by the invisible chains that shackle my insides and destroy me emotionally, mentally and spiritually. The demon within, the friend, the foe; the disease that causes my dis-ease...

If you ever encounter him, be careful, he has a knack for twisting my words smooth as butter and causing them to be unquestionably convincing. He masquerades himself in the form of beauty and intelligence and leaves no room for doubt. His whispers lead me to believe he is always right- at least until the pain comes

The pain and consequence of listening to his voice…the pain and consequence of following his lead….the pain and consequence of letting him pull the strings that keep me shackled to use for his pleasure.

Break free- I must break free. Scream. Rage. Vibrations of immense force throw my body into a state of catatonic shock. Dead on the inside. The demon writhing wins.

It is at the point where I have totally given up and resigned to be bound by his torture forever that my eyes release from the glazed over look of surrender…it migrates then from my eyes to my broken heart which begins to pump, slowly at first but then faster and harder with force…my lungs- I can breathe- shallow to strong my lungs fire up…Strong and stable I stand to my feet and tell him he has no power over me any longer. I choose who to be, who to follow, and where and what I will do. And I choose to rid myself of him forever….the separation is painful as I feel the shackles and strings inside rip and tear- writhing on the ground I result in fetal position, in peace, and quiet. The lights dim slowly the burst through to a blinding sensation of release and freedom.

I have conquered the demon within….

The Man and His Tree

There once was a man who lived in a hole in a tree. In his tree he felt safe nestled beneath its wide roots and cloaked from what dangers may be lurking outside of his hole. He lived in a state of absolute solitude. He watched with fear at the life that passed by around him outside of his tree. He saw animals come and go, frolicking and playing- he also saw animals attacked by others and eaten for food. He saw storms, snow, ice, wind and sun. Yet in his hole he remained. He was unchanged, stable, and safe- or so he thought.

In this very old and very large tree he found comfort of having his own world to maintain without the need to engage in the other. The sap provided some nutrition along with the bugs for food; the nuts and berries that would wind up at the edge of his tree; the leaves, the moss and the grass sustained him. And the dew was grand and the rain was plenty. Yes, he loved his hole- then again; he had nothing else to compare love to.

As time went on he noticed something shifting with his great protector, the age of the tree has finally taken a toll and was not going to be sturdy for much longer. The man was terrified! He could stay and wait for the tree to fall and hope it leaves just enough to keep his hole covered; but then what if he stays and is crushed by the tree? As he sat there pondering his fate more and more the creaks and cracks of the old tree grew louder and he could feel the vibration with every movement. He did not want to die, so what other choice did he have than to leave his hole? He has never stepped more than a few feet away from his protector for as long as he could remember. He did not know his name, he had all but forgotten how to speak and even then it was a broken semblance of English.

The sun was raging and hot and he feared he would catch fire, the wind was strong and fierce and he immediately thought he would blow away. The sounds of the forest were alive and the animals were scurrying around him…in such terror he passed out landing on a rock which killed him. The wondrous beauty of life was all around him every day. He saw things that those outside of the tree would find enchanting, inviting, joyous, sad, and at times scary too. This man never knew any of those wonders of life.

He hid from life, bound by fear…and it was that very fear of living with took his life away.

Too Much

Too much...

There is simply too much.

A cloud of despondency plagues my state of consciousness, raging and battling as I sit and lick the wounds.

The spinning- the melting of the walls and the floating of the floors.

Everything becomes as lava and my views of reality become a distorted perversion of what once was. What was it once? What is it now?

How does one define anything? It appears that the definitions of my existence remain subjective and fluid, never rooted or grounded in a discernable resolution.

Bleeding fingers from lines and lines of incomprehensible nonsense...are these even words?

Stop the spinning!

Let me settle, where is the calm amongst the chaos?

The weight on my chest and the inability to breathe, is just simply too much.

The Cyclical Demise of Stability

How can I put into words the torture?

How can I verbalize the extremism that befuddles me so persistently?

As the pendulum swings so do the tides of my very being, my core, my innermost ability to be. To be.

It is as if I wake up in a completely new world from time to time. “Behold the old has passed away and the new has come.”

This new however is often times the old- and the old from time to time is often a variance of the new.

360. 180.

The radical shifts seem relentlessly unavoidable.

Homeostasis is change.

The settling begins and the feeling of finally taking root is ingrained only to be changed within a blink of an eye for no apparent reason, shaking the core stability that I thought was becoming me.

I can’t. Stop.

Breathe….just breathe…

In the face of one side I long for stability, for a sense of normalcy and a steadfast philosophy of living, yet in another face I challenge and combat the stability for the chance at “freedom,” and still in another face I am left with the perplexity of the cycling and shifting- confounded and confused.

The triad of my consistent inconsistency…

There is beauty in torture, there is constant growth.

Change. Cyclical demise of stability.

The Exquisite

Flashes of light and dancing swirls, sparkles and drips of dew fill the sky, lit with the splendor of nature.

The beauty that surrounds me is unbearably glorious....

How can one look into the majestic flawlessness of the woodlands and meadows and not bow down in reverence to God?

Colors pop and vibrant images consume my eyes, crisp crackles of animals and air swirling through the grass and trees, the fragrance of the pure intact beauty of flora invades my nose...

A breath of release, a breath of tranquility- it is as if my entire being is one with the world around me, as if in this point in time I am completely released of myself and instead I am a blended part of a designed whole. Oh the beauty that befalls me...

Contradictory Existence

There are no words that can express the cycle of a contradictory existence. It is like living on a never ending seesaw of indecision and inconsistency. I beg and plea for balance, yet I constantly find myself tipping the scales back and forth, back and forth; balance is a state I may have to resign to never achieving.


What it ultimately boils down to is the same exhausting questions of who am I, what do I believe in, what are my likes, my dislikes, what is my identity? On the surface of this pondering I searched for answers in the shallow realm; what do my clothes say about me, what does my taste of music say about me, why do these seem to never stay the same? The gamete of stereotypes and labels began running through my mind in a materialistic effort to find some defining answers about my identity.

It was then that my unwaveringly over analytical mind took it many more steps below to the underlying factors of why the need or desire is there to ask such questions, the main one being why I feel the need to compartmentalize myself in the societal sense. I determined it comes from one factor, the desire to belong.

We are creatures of change ever morphing into newer versions of the prior self. We change in appearance, we change in intelligence, we change in morality and beliefs- change is the only constant in life. Some of us experience those changes minimally, and some radically experience hyper active amounts of change. These high level examples of change are personality characteristics that may or may not be a learned trait. Perhaps they are natural tendencies for some to remain relatively “the same person,” or to the other end of the spectrum (where I seem to reside) “never the same person for more than a mood.” We are perpetually evolving, but the question is what are we evolving into? Or yet a better question, what am I evolving into- again, who am I? What is my identity?

For the sake of entertaining the societal implanted views of what subculture our fashion says we must belong to, I would currently fit the mold of “indie”, “hipster” or “bohemian.” It would be assumed that I listen to alternative, rock, folk, singer-songwriter, and underground music. It may bring on the impression that I prefer the arts, intellectual stimulation, culture, and diversity; it may even suggest that I enjoy independent films, foreign films, etc. As much as I hate to say that I would agree with stereotypes, this is my surface identity in a nutshell-these are my likes.

Prior to this was the punk identity in which patches, spikes, and chucks were practically an extension of my body with wild colors and patterns, a gigantic mohawk, and an attitude of screw you- damn the man! Music was loud and fast with the most defiant and rebellious lyrics combined with radical social implications and random humor. Another step back was the hardcore identity where the chelsea was rocked and my life revolved around screamo and hardcore concerts, thrift store chic tees bandanas and belt-buckles as my trademark. There was even a short time where Gap and Abercrombie ruled my life and I listened only to pop, boy bands, and wore ribbons attached to my perfectly curled ponytails… Stereotypes of society would have called me a punk, a rocker/hardcore kid, and prep. These “identities” have been recycled more than once throughout my life.

This need to identify and belong is something that is a major struggle for most young people trying to make their way through adolescence and into adulthood. It seems that most people outgrow this need to belong; so why haven’t I? Why do I still find the need to define myself by such irrelevance? The reason for this need is that I still do not know how to fit into my skin, how to be satisfied and confident, how to know just be. It progresses unequivocally from who am I?

Aside from the shallow notions of fashion and music, there are the deeper changes that occur in beliefs and ambitions, in priorities and goals. It is in these areas that my greatest discomfort arises and that which causes me to question the validity of my “identity.” Beliefs have shifted from super strict Christianity and within this headship to claiming various forms of this religion (Catholic, Presbyterian, Baptist, Charismatic to name a few), to agnostic, to Wiccan, to Buddhist, to Hindu, to New Age, and the list goes on. Ambitions have shifted between living in the midst of a thriving city life where opportunity to revel in the arts and self-fulfillment appear to be plenty, to living in the country riding 4-wheelers and wearing camo and listening to country; from living life as a single parent having no long term love commitments and retaining my independence outside of a relationship to being a “stepford” wife PTA soccer mom living in suburbia and have a family all dressed in matching khakis and driving a mini-van. Goals have gone from owning a coffee/wine bar with live music and poetry readings to being a super successful corporate business woman and back and forth for all of the ambitions and goals above.

It is a constant cycle of fierce desire for independence and adventure to extreme stability, conformity, and routine. Impulsive decisions made by barreling through life towards immediate gratification on a whim which often lands me in a state of discontentment and the feeling of being trapped, repeatedly. The consequences of my choices become overwhelming. This seesaw is a constant war that rages within and suffocates the ability to define who I am. It creates the inability to make life decisions and even decisions in general for fear that my mind will change and I will be shackled in a cage of despair and unhappiness.

Balance, yet again, is a state I may have to resign to never achieving…

LIBERATION

Religiosity…A topic I have struggled with my entire life thus far.

Raised in the Christian Protestant faith, I attended many different churches and I followed many different doctrines. All with the same bible. All with the same basic notion that belief in Jesus as Lord and Savior will save my soul from the gnashing of teeth and burning for all eternity in hell. Belief that with this faith I will be guaranteed an afterlife in perfection, in heaven, dancing and singing praises for all eternity. While each protestant branch preached in different ways- this was the premise that fueled them all.

I have been told that I must believe everything in the Word of God- the bible- or I cannot believe any of it. How frustrating and how pathetic…do I believe, could I believe, that unless all accept Jesus as lord and savior that they shall perish for all of eternity? I cannot. Can I believe that the Protestant way or the Protestant bible is somehow superior and more “right” than the Catholic bible, or the Dead Sea Scrolls? With the many versions and loose translations, the opinions and the revising to suit situations- how could I? And what of the rest of the world and their religious beliefs… How anyone could truly believe that God would damn the majority of the world for believing another religion is something I cannot accept. I have been told that unless one has the knowledge of Jesus and an opportunity to accept Him as their savior then they are not in danger of hell. This concept baffles me even more. Christians claim that the bible can be proven by filling in the gaps of history…well, so can the Vedas, so can the Koran, so can the Buddhist Catechism. So what makes this faith any better or any more real, or anymore “right” than all of the other faiths that are believed around the world? Is it that in the Christian faith there is no room for open mindedness? Perhaps the superior mentality and inability to see faith in a more holistic view is the real problem that I have.

I have been told that the deep emotion felt when in prayer or when in a powerful church service is the Spirit of God moving; and that the miracles that are performed when people put their trust and faith in the blood of Jesus for their healing is indeed an act of God, and only an act of God, by the stripes of Jesus' torn flesh- and an act of the Holy Spirit to show His power. While I do not discount that there is a God, I do have doubts that emotional outbursts and even miraculous healings are only the result of a divine intervention. Can we not experience the same emotional depth when listening to music that touches us deeply? Can we not engage in emotional outbursts when we are in awe at the beauty around us? Then, we address, "by your faith you have been healed"…has science not proved that with your mind we have the ability to heal? Could it not be complete focus on what you want deeply and then allowing your body to receive? We have the ability to heal our bodies as well as make them sick. I have proven this in my own life as a child. I would envision my white blood cells like little soldiers all holding hands and blocking the sickness from my body, then I would visualize them unlocking hands and allowing some sickness to enter their barricade. I would always get sick, anytime I didn’t want to go to school I used this technique. Is this not the same thing as divine healing? Perhaps it is not by His stripes we have been healed, perhaps it is simply by our ability to focus and intently believe that we will receive healing and thus we are healed.

Let me stop here and say that I am not denying the bible in its entirety; I believe much of the bible. However, I do not believe much of the bible as well… I can’t. My passion for reason and my logical, rational mind is not able. “Do I believe in Jesus as my savior?” “What if I say I don’t and I go to hell?” “Am I a Christian?” “Do I even believe in heaven or hell” ; these are the battle cries I have dealt with for many years… One day I encountered a realization- if you have to constantly ask yourself if you believe something, then you don’t. As soon as this revelation resonated within me, there was a relief, a purging, a freedom. I was free. I was then able to see clearly the messages conveyed in all of the world’s religions- love, not fear, not rigidity- love. I refuse to believe something out of fear, I refuse to be shackled in the bondage of doctrine and ignorance- that truly is hell. If this means that I am not a Christian, then I am not. For the first time in my life I am confident and at peace about that fact. Liberation.

The message and purpose of Christ was not solely to save our souls from hell as much of the Christian churches would lead many to believe. Jesus came to teach us love. The message of Jesus was to love. “And the greatest of these is love…” How could a man who taught so openly about loving one another be responsible for the salvation or damnation of souls? To take His teachings alone is to live in peace, harmony, acceptance, and love. Jesus never casted stones, Jesus accepted everyone regardless of morality, lifestyle choice, physicality, etc. Jesus “came that we should have life, and have it more abundantly.” In my quest for defining my beliefs, I have been liberated buy focusing on these principles.

Love. Honor. Integrity. Kindness. Tolerance. Patience. Acceptance. Forgiveness.

I have studied Buddhism, Hinduism, Mysticism, Wiccan, and Judaism- all of which teach the same principles above as a guide to live life fully. These are the teachings of the greatest teachers who ever lived. Jesus Himself said “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God.” In my opinion, this applies regardless of religious beliefs... According to one of the most renown teachings of Jesus, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” These are the disciplines that I follow, these are the truths that I accept from the Christian faith. A final thought on Christianity: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” This is the path I will follow. I will close with a final thought from a man that I revere as the greatest leader our country has ever known… “When I do good, I feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad. That’s my religion.” -Abraham Lincoln