My Demons

I’m finding myself falling into disquieting thoughts on occasion these days. I usually attribute such unpleasantness to physical discomfort; a sore back, being overly tired or whatever. But, when a reasonable physical explanation doesn’t present itself I think demons.

When I think demons I’m not really conjuring monsters such as one sees in medieval paintings; I’m using the term in a more abstract sense, you know, something in the air unsettling my being. Although, if I did think of demons in medieval terms, my demons would probably reflect aspects related to some of the disheartening news that crops up nearly every day. My demons would probably have attributes of some of the mean-spirited politicos who seem to me so bent on imposing their economic and pseudo-religious interests on those most in need of compassionate consideration.
Perhaps, if I envision my demons literally enough I can think of them as scapegoats into which I can stick pins as in the practice of Voodoo and if not diminish what I see as their destructive behaviors at least provide a focus for my wrath, to ease my general discomfort.

And then, when the cloud passes from over my head I can hide my demons away and hopefully not have to bring them back out any time soon. Of course, if I need them they’ll be there.

my demons

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