Brunch with my Demon

I spoke with my demon today—the one who has haunted my thoughts and dampened my spirits lately. We didn’t meet in battle, nor did I face him with courage and strength determined to rid myself of him forever; it was more of a cautious get-to-know-you over brunch situation. I don’t think I had ever looked at him before, at least not like this without the emotional baggage or stereotypical mask I had always shrouded him in. Like the monster that I was sure infected my third dresser drawer when I was a little girl, I had allowed my fear to paint my unseen enemy with sharp angry features without even trying to discover for myself what he was really like. I found to my intense surprise he was polite, gentle, and even pleasant in a languid colorless sort of way. He laughed at my reaction—a shallow but almost musical tenor sound—and told me that my poorly hidden surprise was common and assured me it didn’t offend him. He was a little somber and much too formal, but once I got use to his stuffy manners I was able to see the ancient wisdom hidden in his gloomy eyes.

At the conversation was forced and awkward. After all, how does anyone rationally consider the future they have feared and dreaded most of their life? But necessity and time lubricated the situation effectively, and eventually we were able to address our differences head-on. I told him that he was my last preference, warned him that if I was forced to accept him as my future companion it was because I was forced to set my dreams aside and had no other option. I asked him how I could face such a prospect cheerfully and after a bit of contemplation he pointed out that he wasn’t my very last choice or I would have settled on something different a long time ago. Then he painted a very different picture of what my future would look like if I was forced to spend it with him—one colored by choice and opportunity instead of the failure and emptiness I had always stained it with. For every dream delayed there was a chance to create and pursue a new dream. He didn’t lie to me; no promises that he could create a future better than the one I want for myself, and while he never said so straight out we both knew no matter how pleasant the future he described might be it would never completely fill the spaces in my soul where my dreams belonged. Instead he showed me the emptiness I feared was really a sketchbook open to all kinds of possibilities for growth, service, learning, and happiness. Perhaps not something to be embraced, but not something to be dreaded either.

Then he showed me my present, in its vivacious reality. No matter what happens in my happily ever after, no matter who does nor does not show up, I can never consider myself unlovable when I remember the feeling of six little arms enfolding me as I tucked them into bed. The arms and women attached to them are nearly grown now, but the warmth and love are still there, love for me—more real than you will find in any fairytale. I have no need to fear a dull future when I reflect on the adventures I embarked on with my other two siblings. How can I think I am unwanted or uncared for when I remember the look in Daddy’s face when he tells me he and mom are proud of me? My demon pointed out the love I feel for them and for dozens of other friends who have carried me to where I am and with a thin smile taught me that I need never doubt my ability to love and care for others.

There were tears of course. Even the thought of sacrificing my beautiful aspirations on the altar of reality and revamping the future of my dreams caused a pain so intense my frail brunch-mate wasn’t able to comfort me for a long time, but eventually there was comfort. After all, he pointed out; painting new dreams doesn’t necessitate my killing the ones I already have. And so I made peace with the demon who has haunted my failures for the last six years. We are not friends yet, but I think we could be, someday, if necessity required it. Either way, I already have more love and vitality in my life than I deserve, and no matter what my future holds, I’m ready to go out and meet it.

I was in the Denver airport yesterday on my way back home to Texas and there was a bird flying around in the airport. It was probably scared silly but it just kept flying around, doing what it knew how to do. I wasn't able to watch it for an exceptionally long time but I'd like to think eventually it got out alright. Meanwhile it was fun to see-inspirational almost to watch a creature of nature trapped and alone still fighting to get free in spite of fear and difficulty. I suppose he remembered the sky. I suppose that on some level he knew who he was and what he was meant to do. Clearly he remembered he was meant to fly. I wish I was better about that. I get so embroiled in my tangled fears of the future I forget not only what I'm meant to become but the strengths and blessings I already have. I may not rule the sky but I am a happy kid. I've always been good at that. I need to be better about not forgetting who I am and what my real purpose is. When I landed there was another bird--a one legged raven hopping around looking for scraps I think. The cool part was that the bird wasn't hampered by what it lacked but instead made it work with what it had. This too is a lesson I can learn. I've always wondered what it would be like to be a bird. Seeing two face the same problems I do (or at least being able to paint their problems with the same colors I paint my own with) provided me with some interesting perspective. Haha I may be as nerdy as I ever was, but it was a good wake up call all the same.