Lately, the monsters have been everywhere. Monsters of the past returning to haunt me, monsters in the moment threatening to tear me apart, the fear of monsters lurking just beyond the corner. I’ve even found myself turning into somewhat of a monster, angry and bitter, sick and anxious. The past week has been filled with monsters.
And yet now, I sit here on my new balcony, my first morning in my new home. And the monsters are slowly fading into the background. I have bid farewell to the monsters of my past, a few tears and a motionless wave. The monsters of the present have subsided for this moment, allowing me to luxuriate in the solace of singing birds and chirping crickets, the green foliage before my eyes a welcoming haven to my soul. The monsters of the future are still lurking, but they don’t seem quite as scary today. I do not feel the gut-wrenching pains, the trembling vibrations of a body encompassed in fear. And even I am not such a hideous monster today. Alone for the first time in a week, I find my breathing has slowed, my heartbeat is no longer pounding in my chest, my stomach is no longer leaving me stranded on a bathroom floor.
I am still scared, mostly of the monsters that lie within me. There will always be a trace of fear, but perhaps it is that fear that drives me forward, that keeps me reaching for balance, that urges me to open my eyes and take in the beauty of the world. Yes, the fear is still there, precariously close to the edge. But for now, in this moment, the monsters have disappeared and the fear is washing out to sea.