Tuesday, June 29, 2010
There was the kind of love/hate relationship with the horror movies though. That's because in the evenings I would have to go upstairs to my room and somehow manage to make it into the big old four-poster bed without having my ankle grabbed by an imaginary monster that lurked underneath. I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I summoned up the courage to get a running start and then leap into the bed. I would then lie still in the middle of the bed, hardly breathing, with both arms and legs held as tight as possible to my body. Eventually I would manage to get to sleep and wake in the morning to find that I had survived to greet another day.
I don't watch horror movies much anymore. The old classics will occasionally come on and I will see Bela Lugosi say "I vant your blood" and laugh. Or I might see Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster and feel sorry for the pitiful creature who really wanted to be loved. These movies aren't scary to me now.
The fears that I have today are ones that often are more imaginary than those from childhood. Thoughts about losing my loved ones, having my wife start drinking again, and other such projections clearly indicate that I am making a horror movie in my head. I have learned that I don't have to be rigid with fear about what might happen. I can turn these fears over and trust in a Higher Power that I'll make it through another day. And the old four poster bed that used to conceal the monsters under its dust ruffle simply stands in an upstairs bed room looking comfortable and beckoning me to nestle beneath the duvet and sleep soundly.