Welcome to my week long count down to Halloween, my favorite of all holidays. I begin my countdown with a little personal meta on the paranormal inspired by my love of the aforementioned subject and a friend who pokes me with a stream of links that sometimes would be considered scary. *hee*
So yesterday morning I was greeted, when I logged on my computer, by an off-line message from a friend that knows about one of my guilty pleasures—Sci-Fi Channel’s Ghost Hunters. Now I know that some people are already rolling their eyes, but just hang on until I explain the message. It appears that the Sci-Fi Channel has another spin off from their popular television program this one involving college students travelling the country with a seasoned paranormal investigator in search of proof of—you guessed it—the paranormal!
Now I’m positive a great number of people are rolling their eyes. If you stop and think about it though, there is a market for programs like this because people in general want to know what’s out there. We may not openly admit that curiosity, but considering the influx of paranormal television we all want to know. There is a certain amount of fear involved in that curiosity as well—fear of the unknown, of death, and that we’ll be mocked. So we set in our homes living vicariously through television programs and through books both fiction and non-fiction about those things we fear and continue to wonder about those unknown factors in the world that science has yet to explain fully.
Let me give you some insight by using myself as an example.
As a child, I was raised in a home that consisted of a typical family father, mother, two younger brothers, plus one thing unusual an invisible occupant. Yes, we had a ghost and to be honest for years I thought everyone had one. We were even aware of who it was. The front portion of our home had been a roadhouse before the main interstate was constructed through our area. It was shut down when said gentleman was killed in a bloody bar fight and later was bought, moved to the other side of the old highway, and an addition added to the rear. Our friend was always lingering, but he was most active around the late evening hours, and we often heard him pacing between the kitchen and the living room that had been the original bar. I always felt as if perhaps he wasn’t aware he was dead. I was never scared of him either until the fall when I was fourteen. It was then that he decided to say hi and I actually heard him. Before, you start thinking I’m crazy and that I was ‘Hearing voices?’ it only happened once and never again. Perhaps my adolescent screams convinced him to keep to himself.
My mother Goddess rest her soul, never liked to talk about things such as our guest because she’d been told she was crazy her entire life. She was a sensitive. I prefer that term due to the fact that the word psychic over the years has accumulated negative connotations. My mother’s side of the family particularly the women, have always been sensitive to certain degrees. I myself am one of those sensitive women and as I’ve grown older, I’ve exercised that to its full potential. In fact, I have a guest in my apartment of thirteen years that comes and goes as he pleases. We have an understanding between us that if I’m working he leaves me alone. I can’t prove that he’s there to those of you who are hardcore science people, but believe me he’s there, and at times, he can be quite annoying.
He seems to have a fetish for shiny things—much like a bird. I can’t begin to count the number of times that he’s snatched keys, jewelry, and even CD’s for my computer and I’ve torn my apartment apart looking for the missing object only to have it appear mysteriously out in the open an hour, a day, or a month later. I never said anything about his presence to anyone until one day my friend—let’s call her Jane—who claimed she was going nuts with the activity in her house visited my apartment for the first time. She knew I was interested in the paranormal and she just wanted to talk to someone that wouldn’t mock her.
She walked in, raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. After our afternoon of chitchat, we parted ways and I noticed immediately that my roommate seemed to have taken a leave of absence. I thought nothing of it, since it wasn’t the first time he’d wandered off, until the next morning.
I was greeted by an e-mail from Jane that simply said ‘Are you missing something?’
I was hit by a fit of laughter then sent an e-mail that said ‘What do you mean?’
Apparently, Jane was not amused by my innocent inquiry. Immediately I received an e-mail in return that said ‘You know what I’m talking about. He followed me home last night.’
After a good twenty minutes of laughing until tears streaked my face, I managed to type a reply ‘Fine tell him to go home.’
To be honest I never thought that Jane would come back to my apartment, but around two hours later my roommate was back and Jane was calling me to ask me why I hadn’t told her I had a ghost in my apartment. I just shrugged and explained that I didn’t think it was important. After all I’d been greeted by mockery myself in the past about my belief in ghosts. When you’ve been consistently mocked, you just get to the point that you don’t discuss such things in mixed company much like religion and politics.
Since that incident, Jane has come to visit numerous times, and my roommate has yet to follow her home again. I think he was curious about this woman he’d never seen, not to mention that Jane seems to have a proclivity for attracting ghosts no matter where she goes, much as I do, but I’ve never really been scared since that one incident at fourteen. There are times that I will be walking down the street and often I sense one pass me.
When people think of ghosts they think of abandoned houses or castles, fog swept moors, and dark primeval forests. The spirits of those who have passed are everywhere though and there is no need for the set dressings of Hollywood. Are they watching you in the shower? Probably, but what can you do? *laughs* Of course, I’m sure the dead have better things to do than play peeping Tom, Dick, or Harry. I believe that there is something beyond this physical life. What is that? I wouldn’t begin to know considering I am still with the living. Sometimes I think spirits linger for different reasons, but whatever their reason I doubt that we have anything to fear.
As I told Jane when she complained of the activity in her home ‘How would you feel if you came home one day and no matter what you did your family acted as if you weren’t there—wouldn’t that piss you off?’ Spirits are just the souls of those who linger and sometimes they just want a smile, a friendly hello, and perhaps the occasional cup of coffee. So next time you’re alone and that feeling that someone is just there out of the reach of your sight, stop and say hello as long as you’re sure you won’t mind an answer.
Here’s tohaving a Happy Halloween…