The Demon Experience
The Demon Experience (Jim)
The happiest time in my life was during my senior year in high school when I became almost mystic. My spirituality was one of deep gratitude. During that time I was very close to nature, and close friends with a priest, and deeply involved in a retreat program. My work with the retreat program greatly expanded my social connections. I was not enthralled however with the Catholic church but was with what my friend, Fr. Miriani, made of his priesthood. I thought this is what I want to do too.
The next year at the seminary however, I was very isolated, since most seminarians lived in Chicago and returned home at night. There was no way for an outward expression of my gratitude, no connection with others. By the end of my junior year I was deeply depressed, and at the last moment, days before my senior year began, I knew I could not go back there. So I changed my enrollment to a seminary connected with the Benedictine monks in Indiana.
I prayed hours each day but my spirituality had changed. Rather than experience of gratitude it had an aire of ‘I am not worthy’, and of a suffering servant. In my search for an answer, in this light, I realized I was the problem. I could move mountains if I had but a grain of faith. But because I did not have faith that God would care for me, as he does the sparrow, I focused on self. To have faith and move mountains I would not focus on me.
From that day forth I focused solely on others need, with no attention on my own. In fact I absolutely forbid myself any attention on my own need. I use to slice people apart with my tongue, as a defense, but now I let them in despite my insecurities. As I did this non-stop each day I felt a fear begin to grow and grow and grow in my chest. I was having terrifying nightmares. I went to the floor prefect to speak about this. He told me nightmares were part of the dark night of the soul that always precede leaps of spiritual growth. That it was to be expected and was necessary. He also told me I was being watched and that the faculty wanted me to, in some formal way, to take on a larger role at the school. I told them my plate was already over-flowing.
Days later, I and 15 or so classmates went on retreat in southern Illinois. At the first gathering we went around the room and each shared our greatest need. Since I was already nearing my limit, as I tried to answer their needs, the fear expanded exponentially. And it began to detach from me, to become its own entity. I could no longer contain it. I felt its malice and knowing it would harm the participants, I jumped up, when I could no longer contain it, and fled from the room with it.
In the courtyard outside, a huge wind blew as I hurled it into some trash cans nearby. They flew into the air as if hit by a bolt of lightening. I ran to my car and as I closed the door, the car, the courtyard, the school, ground, world, vanished. It was all gone, and I was falling. Far above there was a light but I was receding from it. As I fell further and further from the light into nothingness, I heard blood curling screams, and hideous laughter and chains, getting louder and louder.
I prayed and I prayed. ‘What had I done so terribly wrong.’ Eventually I knew the answer. I had become God. I had no need for God. I had no gratitude for the gift I’d been given and no acceptance of my limits. I prayed for forgiveness, and eventually stopped falling. I began to rise toward the light, the screams receded and the world returned.
I was so shaken by this revelation that I absolutely did not trust my judgement to make a single decision. I began to drive, not knowing where, and was totally unwilling to will anything. I don’t know how but I ended up at my parents house hours later. I stayed about three days, and was unable to speak or eat. Returning to school, I could not finish my thesis till the next summer and barely passed. It was months before I could hold down food. I changed my whole in life eventually to as far away from people and spirituality as possible. Though I always wanted to return to the mystic happiness of my earlier days, I feared spirituality. Yet I feel this is my calling, what I am meant to do. Who am I though to lead spirituality when I can tolerate it the least?
The happiest time in my life was during my senior year in high school when I became almost mystic. My spirituality was one of deep gratitude. During that time I was very close to nature, and close friends with a priest, and deeply involved in a retreat program. My work with the retreat program greatly expanded my social connections. I was not enthralled however with the Catholic church but was with what my friend, Fr. Miriani, made of his priesthood. I thought this is what I want to do too.
The next year at the seminary however, I was very isolated, since most seminarians lived in Chicago and returned home at night. There was no way for an outward expression of my gratitude, no connection with others. By the end of my junior year I was deeply depressed, and at the last moment, days before my senior year began, I knew I could not go back there. So I changed my enrollment to a seminary connected with the Benedictine monks in Indiana.
I prayed hours each day but my spirituality had changed. Rather than experience of gratitude it had an aire of ‘I am not worthy’, and of a suffering servant. In my search for an answer, in this light, I realized I was the problem. I could move mountains if I had but a grain of faith. But because I did not have faith that God would care for me, as he does the sparrow, I focused on self. To have faith and move mountains I would not focus on me.
From that day forth I focused solely on others need, with no attention on my own. In fact I absolutely forbid myself any attention on my own need. I use to slice people apart with my tongue, as a defense, but now I let them in despite my insecurities. As I did this non-stop each day I felt a fear begin to grow and grow and grow in my chest. I was having terrifying nightmares. I went to the floor prefect to speak about this. He told me nightmares were part of the dark night of the soul that always precede leaps of spiritual growth. That it was to be expected and was necessary. He also told me I was being watched and that the faculty wanted me to, in some formal way, to take on a larger role at the school. I told them my plate was already over-flowing.
Days later, I and 15 or so classmates went on retreat in southern Illinois. At the first gathering we went around the room and each shared our greatest need. Since I was already nearing my limit, as I tried to answer their needs, the fear expanded exponentially. And it began to detach from me, to become its own entity. I could no longer contain it. I felt its malice and knowing it would harm the participants, I jumped up, when I could no longer contain it, and fled from the room with it.
In the courtyard outside, a huge wind blew as I hurled it into some trash cans nearby. They flew into the air as if hit by a bolt of lightening. I ran to my car and as I closed the door, the car, the courtyard, the school, ground, world, vanished. It was all gone, and I was falling. Far above there was a light but I was receding from it. As I fell further and further from the light into nothingness, I heard blood curling screams, and hideous laughter and chains, getting louder and louder.
I prayed and I prayed. ‘What had I done so terribly wrong.’ Eventually I knew the answer. I had become God. I had no need for God. I had no gratitude for the gift I’d been given and no acceptance of my limits. I prayed for forgiveness, and eventually stopped falling. I began to rise toward the light, the screams receded and the world returned.
I was so shaken by this revelation that I absolutely did not trust my judgement to make a single decision. I began to drive, not knowing where, and was totally unwilling to will anything. I don’t know how but I ended up at my parents house hours later. I stayed about three days, and was unable to speak or eat. Returning to school, I could not finish my thesis till the next summer and barely passed. It was months before I could hold down food. I changed my whole in life eventually to as far away from people and spirituality as possible. Though I always wanted to return to the mystic happiness of my earlier days, I feared spirituality. Yet I feel this is my calling, what I am meant to do. Who am I though to lead spirituality when I can tolerate it the least?
posted by LifeWriter at 10:11 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home