Ugliness brings lessons, and by looking my monsters straight in the eye, I hope to gain deeper understanding. Why are they here? What are they trying to teach me? And what do they need to be lulled back to sleep?
This week: Monsters from the Outside
My monsters are no secret. Not to me, and not to you.
By acknowledging their presence, I peel them back to the core. Until monsters turn out to be allies, and I can receive their lessons with reverence. Monsters and allies — they are part of me, and I share them with pride. My monsters are not yours to harness, not to be used as hobbyhorses saddled with your own ego, or as old skeletons dragged from your stinking swamp.
Some monsters come from the outside. They reflect themselves in my self-image but cannot bear the reflection. They throw rotten eggs and hurl sour accusations to mask the stench of their own fear-sweat and envy. When I was a little Simple-Sapling, those monsters scared me most. I feared the day they would expose me. That I would be unmasked, and people would discover who I really was. Frightened and ashamed, I shaped myself to fit the space they left for me. I was convinced that truth came from the outside. Now I know better.
Those who try to drag me down are already beneath me. They’re desperate to give me a taste of my own medicine, forgetting that I’m the one who baked the cookies. I no longer waste my time explaining myself to those determined to twist my words. The poisoned chalice they carry, I let pass — I’m not the one who filled it, and I thirst neither for their recognition nor their approval.
You can’t use my monsters against me — I created them myself.
Monsters van buiten