I’m rather off today. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed – that is to say, the side where Alvie used to sleep.
For the past few months, I find myself scrunched up in a tiny corner of my bed’s side, as if I were the last pencil jammed into the full pencil box. You know, the yellow #9 kind of pencil we had as kids (some of us). I’m afraid if pressed too hard, I might splinter.
I’m telling you this, because I am feeling very mixed up – a mixed Medium. And, because ever since I had a discussion about science fiction, I’m beginning to wonder about reality. Well, truth be told, not wonder, but to question.
I’ve mentally turned off my spectre receiver – like putting my phone on silent. In my mind’s eye (as I’ve read about), I put myself in a virtual bubble to avoid being contacted. But the bubble didn’t feel strong enough. Bubbles are so fragile; popped more than a few. So, instead, I erected a very nice wall, clad in stainless, like one of those expensive refrigerators. My wall has four sides, and a retractable roof, I can see through. I think I’ve done a very nice job. I feel confined and safe for the time being.
I’m telling you this, because I don’t think anybody will believe what’s happened to me. What sort of experience with Apparitions can I ever prove – unless I have witnesses? And then, even if I found some witnesses, how could they prove their own experiences? I know there is some sort of electronic equipment ghost hunters use, but even then, hunters have to prove their equipment and cameras weren’t tampered. It seems people are more willing to believe in scary ghosts, but not in helpful apparitions. And the only proof I have is my word.
It reminds me of those stories about all the people who claim to see a UFO flying overhead and their stories are discounted by all the skeptics – even when presented with “proof” from shaky videos and stories of abductions from otherwise reasonable people.
“The proof is in the pudding”, the old saying goes. But even if I served up a ghost in a creme caramel, it would be disregarded as just another confection by a spun-sugar artist.
And maybe that’s the way every body, ghosts and skeptics, want it..