A demon on her shoulder

There was a demon on her shoulder, but she couldn’t see it.

It used her own voice so she believed what it said to be true.

It gorged on her doubts, her anxieties and her fears. She fed it every day.

It first appeared when she was young. Smaller than a ladybird it would whisper into her ear.

Now it was huge; its long black tendrils embracing, writhing, squeezing the life out of her.

It weighed nothing but was heavier than the world.

There was a demon on her shoulder, but she couldn’t see it.

I could see it.

But if I told her about it, it would cover her ears. If I pointed to it, it would turn her head the other way. If I drew her attention to its lies, it would get angry and make her cry, until I backed off.

When it was distracted I would feed her love to make her stronger.

And sometimes the demon would weaken and shrink.

But because she didn’t believe it was there, she didn’t recognise its voice that sounded oh so like hers.

And when I was distracted it would whisper into her ear and she would unknowingly start feeding it again.

So I was never able to defeat it.

There was a demon on her shoulder, but she couldn’t see it.

Only The Now

The past is only accessible through the imagination.

The future is only accessible through the imagination.

Only The Now is accessible by anything other than the imagination - through the actual senses.

This moment, and only this moment, can we truly experience.

Although most of the time we miss it because we are too busy using our imagination.

Stop reading this and feel the air as it passes in, then out, of your body.