Bridget - My Dear Demons

I don’t fight with my demons anymore. Sometimes maybe we wrestle firmly or trip each other up or give each other a good solid slap and believe me I never doubt that they are there somewhere in the background even if not top of mind. 

I’m actually kind of friendly with my demons now, like “hey how ya doing?” when they show up, old comrades meeting at the local bar late at night: Hello, negative self-image! How are you, fear of success? Have a seat, bitter critical self. Guilt, my old friend, how the hell are you doing? And welcome, obsessive addictive personality…A bit tired and bleary, my dear demons and I are the kind of friends who hold each other up as we stagger home in the darkness after last call. I’ve come to appreciate how dependable they are. Maybe even indispensible. 

My demons and the gnarly paths they have led me down have proven to be the source of the most nutrient-rich material available in the universe. It’s like top-notch fertilizer: I am learning to dig it in, work it in deeply to the soil of my heart knowing that it will supplement, germinate, grow, flower, bear fruit. 

I used to wonder why I liked to take pictures of flowers after they became dry and hung listless, of empty swimming pools, concrete, graffiti, garbage dumps and gradually I came to understand that I have this relentless desire to rebel against the traditional notions of what is beautiful and what is not beautiful. I’m so grateful for that innate desire because today it is helping me learn to accept and love myself, all parts of me. 

Thank you, camera, for helping me to face my demons from behind your protective lens. 

Thank you, Pema Chodron, for showing me how to hold steady (mostly, sometimes, better than before), to not turn away, to breathe in deeply the pain, rage, grief, hopelessness…and then to breathe it out again, fully. 

Thank you to the poets that have taught me to treat my demons as honored guests, to invite them in graciously and converse respectfully with even the most demented. 

Thank you, my lovely friend Caroline, for teaching me how to call a meeting of all the parts of me, demons included, and how to give each the chance to speak and be heard. 

Thank you, wind; thank you, water; and thank you, ravens. Thank you, garden. Thank you, laughter (Jimmy Fallon Late Night Hashtags in particular).

Thank you, trees. I saw a bumper sticker once that said “Trees are the answer” and just yesterday I read an article about a toddler who would only say “hi” to trees. Makes me wonder.

Thank you, romance novels by Betty Neels and those endless Korean drama series with happy endings. Thank you, Spring, for coming every year despite my skepticism.

Thank you, Zen enso symbol. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the gentleman who came up to me outside the organic grocery store, flipped open his overcoat and said “Wanna buy a beagle?” resulting in my bringing home the biggest anti-demon force ever: a puppy named Bunny. 

Thank you son, for letting me know the power of unconditional love.

Thank you, sunset. 

Thank you, time. I appreciate the softening effect of the years. I appreciate that the darkness is familiar now, and not to be feared. I appreciate knowing that the sun will rise every day, believe it or not. The light is there. Always. The light is there, is coming.

Thank you, dear demons, for allowing me to recognize the light.