Ear Fungus

I had discovered a few dark dots in my ears; one spot on the hollow beside the ear canal and another on the ear lobe, the same on each side. They were dark, and about the size of spots of green mould as they begin to grow on old bread; perhaps 1-1.5mm in diameter.

I noticed these spots as I had up some kind of examination device to my ears. I thought surely these small spots could be resolved by simply rubbing these spots with my finger. I tried rubbing a few times and it felt like it was going to work, but the physician who was with me told me plainly that I would see no success in attempting this, and I needed his intervention.

At length I consented for the physician to do his work on my ears, and before I knew it he was finished. He showed me three pieces of fungus he had extracted from my ears; they were thinner than paper, yet as long as my pinky finger and almost as wide as my three middle fingers together. It had a ridge along the long side, like the stem of a leaf, and the rest of the fungus hung off it in a loose and whispy manner. One piece was black as mould, another was dark green like seaweed, and the other was a very dark brown, almost as dark as the first.

Prior to this, I was showering at my mother’s house, readying myself to go to church on a Sabbath morning, and running late. I was desperately trying to wash my face, using some pleasant-smelling skincare cream in a pump bottle, but for some reason it wasn’t working, so I kept rinsing it off and applying it again. Eventually I think I gave up, and it was in my childhood bedroom that my ears were inspected and found unclean.

I perceived that by listening to the wrong kind of music we could be inviting demons to live in our ears. We may think ourselves capable of cleaning our ears out, but we are not, and we require intervention by the Great Physician.

As a child, in my bedroom, I listened to much of the wrong kind of music, especially various genres of metal and punk. The first time I attended a hardcore concert, my friend who was with me clearly perceived that there was a demonic presence there, though to my knowledge he had no prior experience with such things. I knew the exact feeling he was talking about but to my shame I chose to ignore it.

As I reflect back on my life, the times I spent the most time listening to the most stimulating music were the times I was most depressed and anxious and had the weakest spiritual life. This was regardless of whether that music was punk, metal, pop, hip hop, or any of the many genres of electronic dance music. Though different spirits attend them, and some songs have a stronger impact than others, the result on the spiritual life is similarly damaging.

The times I have had the strongest spiritual life have been associated with noble, dignified, spiritually uplifting music, the kind which awakens the intellect and not the lower passions. Though I initially had no taste for such music, as it did not produce the sensory stimulation I was so accustomed to, it has reliably brought my heart into harmony with the peace that surpasses all understanding.