Zombies, white walkers, Demogorgons and dragons. Gruffalos, gremlins, Heffalumps and Woozles.

We love monsters don’t we?
.

Or more precisely, we love to hate our monsters.

The appeal is obvious. The external embodiment of everything that is wrong.

Distorted, disfigured.

Identifiably bad.

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Many years ago I had a close friend I spoke with almost daily. We would spend hours on IM discussing the mundane details of our teenage lives, reflecting on life, spirituality and our similar struggles.

“I wish I had a monster to blame.” I remember telling her one night as we tried to unravel our joint dysfunctions.

“No, trust me, you don’t.”

She was right of course. She knew. It didn’t help. Of course it didn’t help.

I didn’t really want a monster. I wanted a reason. I wanted something outside myself to blame.

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There was no monster in my closet. Yet I’ve fought my share of demons.

Never real enough for the preachers to “cast out” with the usual theatrics of your average exorcism.

Just the regular kind. The internal demons you pray for God to take away because you want it to be as simple as that. A spiritual tumor that the right prayer from the right preacher at the right church service can finally cut out. So you pray and pray for it to go away until you just don’t anymore.

Because you know.

It’s a part of you, even if it is apart from you.

---

Every Halloween we gather together pictures of our deceased relatives and light candles to remember them. I enjoy this little tradition we’ve created for our family.

Reflecting on the lives of the people we came from, the people we’ve lost. Death as a reminder to treasure life.

Truthfully, I’ve grown to quite like Halloween. One of my many small rebellions, I suppose.

As a child I remember feeling a looming sense of dread as October 30th rolled around. A night, I was taught, that very real satanic powers were out in full force ready to attach themselves onto anyone unwise enough to take part. Someone could be out there summoning demons, tricking naive kids into occult bondage.

It’s interesting to see who gives fear its power.

.

Isn’t this just an opportunity to sell chocolates by the fistful?

Isn’t every holiday?

But maybe it can also be something more. Society’s moment to grapple with fear. The season when we unmask the monsters.

A time to face the things that scare us with a sort of jovial irreverence that takes just a little bit of the power away.

.
Frightening ourselves because we know we can walk out of the movie unharmed. Decorating with skulls and tombstones. Relics of death that our daily life denies. We don the costumes of monsters, jump out the bushes and scream boo!

And then we laugh. And that takes some of the power of fear away.

Our joint laughter, our frivolous resistance ignites something different. Something better than fear.

The night is long and full of terrors.

Traditionally, this time of year is seen as the beginning of a season of darkness. The end of long summer days.

There’s no sense in denying the darkness. So we light a fire. We huddle together. We tell stories, share our fears, bare our scars. We face our demons_together._

Because yes, the monsters are real, but in all the best stories, they don’t get to win.

^{Lead Illustration by Limkuk CG Artist}