The Monsters of the Night
Watch out for the monsters lurking in the shadows. Be wary of those who whisper secret remedies able to cure your maladies. Remember good intentions spoken by sweet people can be poison. They may wish love, health, and happiness, but if they have been bitten by the snake and poisoned with its oil, they will harm you.
Charlatans love the sick and vulnerable. This is most evident with people suffering the horrible hell of cancer and other terrible maladies. These poor souls are often targeted by MLMs, charlatans and con artists. Sometimes massage therapists fall into this category as well and spread unproven and often dangerous ideas that negatively influence the outcome of others.
If you had a serious illness would you want to be bombarded with expensive, unproven methods claiming to cure or control your disease? When faced with the cold hard truth you want what works. Whatever you choose, make sure it works for you.
Sometimes we are met with monsters of spirit and word. These abusers are thieves plotting to steal what we need. They feed us spoonful’s of lies to veil their taking as giving. Their agenda is to weaken our walls with the goal to gain access to our soul.
Ordinarily life is hard. When we get sick or injured it gets even more difficult. There are people in the world like Ernest the life coach who teach people their pain is their fault. They instruct us that our anger is the reason we are ill and if we wanted to heal we would. These ideas are the monsters I speak of. Ernest meant well with what he was saying. I believe he genuinely believed he was helping me, but he lacked the humility and wisdom to explore his own ideas.
Anger and heart break are healthy feelings. They help us cope with change and trauma. Without exploring anger, we would never be able to grieve anyone or anything we’ve lost.
Not all monstrous ideas are as formulaic as the ones he was trying to sell.
When I was going through chemotherapy I was told I shouldn’t be angry, sad, or fearful. I needed to express my feelings but there was nowhere to place them. Every time I tried someone would tell me I was wrong for feeling these negative emotions.
In my last month of treatment, I attended a group meeting at the Cancer Support Community. It was everything I needed. I was surrounded by so many insightful, loving, and enduring souls. They were the first to give me permission to feel what I felt. As a result, the emotional acid of my heart stopped burning my insides, and my hurt began to pour out. Over time the hurt healed, and I relearned to live.
It’s hard to give yourself permission to feel when we have people like Ernest and others spitting ignorance into our eyes. It blinds our sight and steals our ability to see. The labyrinth is impossible to escape when we believe we should never explore or express our anger, or when we are told our only emotions are love and fear. Having an Ernest in our life is like trying to create a campfire as someone continually dowses our flame with dirt.