Demons and Louis DePalma

Oh the things my mind doesn't think of.

I had an...interesting day. Can't really tell you about it cuz, you know - it's confidential. But what I can tell you is that it reminded me of the demons that try to take up space in my head. And the things those little pointy-eared bastards say and want me to believe.   

I've named one of those ugly little creatures, Louis DePalma. Remember him?  Taxi. A sitcom circa 1978. He was the character played by Danny DeVito. (or maybe you remember him from Matilda - he played the "I'm smart, you're dumb" dad.) That short, stout, balding, sneering character that liked to taunt, cajole, diminish, and harass. He had no redeeming value whatsoever. He wasn't even an anti-hero. He was just anti. Well - that's what the demons in my brain are all about.  They have no redeeming value yet they are in there (for a plethora of reasons I won't bore you with).  

I've waged war on those gnarly little things but they are quite relentless.  

Much like the gentleman I spent time with today - whose demons told him the proper course to take was to seek  revenge and "blood" and to "make someone pay big time" -  the demons in my head also have a similar mission. They always do. Their goal is to destroy. Demons never seek healing or compassion or love or progress. They only provoke more harm, depression, helplessness, blood shed. 

And yet...we listen to them. 

I had my first disagreement with my beau the other day.  Actually, it wasn't really even a disagreement.

But it triggered me. 

It robbed me of sleep that night. It destroyed my common sense, my peace of mind, my reason. I spilled some tears. Stoked some fears. And by the late morning was ready to have a talk about what happened. Sure that we were done, I was ready to put a period at the end of this relationship.  By the time he arrived at my door I had demons crawling all over me; taunting, cajoling, diminishing and harassing.

But my beau's response was not the scenario I had imagined for the last 18 hours. I was met with calm. Compassion. Understanding. With a few simple words, those little shits turned their pointy-tails and ran. Poof! Gone. Exposed for the liars and destroyers they were. And I was left with this normal, kind man who, with only a few words, his arms around me, whispered; "I love you". I rested in that for the remainder of the day.

Today, when I happened across this gentleman, who was clearly agitated, my first reaction was unkind.  Ugh!  Not another complaint. Who has time for this? Ugh! Just give him a number to call. Ugh! I have work to do! Ugh! 

But as his story wore on, I listened. Offered agreement where I could. Acknowledged his painful journey. Championed his recovery. And before I knew it, his combative, "out for blood" demeanour had shifted to something softer.  

"People just want to be listened to" he said. 

"Of course" I agreed with all sincerity.  

"You've listened, and that has really helped me. I feel better now."  

I felt grateful for that. I walked him out and he told me he believed in God - a Higher Power. He had been in many recovery programs that espouse a God / High Power / Being Greater than ourselves. I told him that I understood how he has suffered but I shared with him that I had discovered that wanting revenge never led to anything good - it never promoted healing. I told him that I found that compassion always made both sides better. He looked at me and said, 

"You seem to know all about that". 

Well yes - I told him, I've been on a journey too. And I have a faith that's helped me find healing. Then his eyes lit up, he took a step back and he pointed at me. 

"I think the Big Guy in the Sky just told me what my orders are".  

Yeah. Because compassion doesn't destroy. It heals. I wished him well on his journey and he left lighter than when he arrived. And frankly, so did I. I spent over an hour in long conversation with him. Mostly I listened.  But you see, as he spoke I realized that he and I were not that dissimilar. We both have those damn demons. And sometimes you just need a calm, understanding voice to beat them back.

  

I walked back down to my office and thought what a blessing to me this soul was. The hour had been well spent. I hoped - prayed - that maybe my voice would be added to the ones who would help to heal his brokenness.