David McElroy

For some of us, the demons are always lurking.

We’re not always aware of them. They don’t always make themselves obvious. But when certain things happen and certain triggers are pushed inside of us, the echoes of old dysfunction suddenly become quite loud and the demons are eager to come out and play.

I got glimpses of some of my old demons earlier tonight. I felt like running away. And even though it’s been an hour since I escaped the presence of the people involved, I still feel the effects in my body.

My heart rate is still slightly elevated. Some of my muscles feel clenched. And I feel something vague and terrible in the pit of my stomach.

It adds up to echoes of the ways I learned to feel as a child — when I was small and powerless, when I felt terrified of the narcissist who ruthlessly ruled my life.

I felt afraid tonight. And none of it made sense to my conscious mind, because there was nothing rational to be afraid of.

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For the first time in my life, I’m happy. At least some of the time.

That’s not exactly the right word — when I say “happy” — but it’s the best way I know to describe it. Have I ever experienced happiness before? Yes, of course. But when I’ve been happy in the past, it’s always been that I’ve felt happy about something in particular.

I was happy that a woman loved me. I was happy that I’d solved a major problem. Or gotten something new. Achieved something that made me feel good for a moment.

But there was always an expiration date on those things, even if I often didn’t understand that. If I felt happy that a particular woman loved me — someone who I had wanted, for instance — I typically felt as though this was the one thing that would make me happy for life.

But there was always something missing. Something was wrong.

Once the relationship died — or the shiny new object lost its shine — I always grew restless. Something inside me was always looking for the next big thing that would make me happy.

Slowly — without me consciously noticing it — something changed. A miracle happened.

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I’m still looking for my place in this world.

In reality, though, I’m trapped between two worlds. I was born into a flesh-and-blood world which is ruled by a mindless culture which feels cold and indifferent at best, angry and evil at worst. At times, I glimpse another world — a world in which love and decency and compassion lead us to connection with a creator who is often hidden.

I’m a part of both worlds, but I want to live more and more in the world of the spirit. More in the world of love. More in the world of this creator spirit who I know as God.

There are times when I want to rage against the dysfunction and the evil of what modern popular culture has become. That’s partly because what I see seems so wrong, but it’s partly because being immersed in that culture keeps us from seeing the spirit world.

So there are times when I’m angry about the world in which I’m living, when I’m filled with confusion and hurt and outrage about what we have created.

But this is not one of those times.

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