I Ain't Afraid of No Ghost

I tend to be a skeptic about most things. Some say this makes me cynical or negative but I think it makes me a realist. If a person makes a claim, I expect them to back it up. Want to pray to the moon? Well, explain why the moon is suddenly in the business of granting wishes. I don’t begrudge people their beliefs. Think whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to have the same reverence or respect for it. There is one thing that puts me on the path of hypocrisy, however. I’m pretty sure ghosts are real.

I’ve been fascinated by ghosts since I was a very young child. I have vague memories of either experiencing ghostly phenomena or hearing about someone who had. Maybe it was from a movie. Being raised Christian, ghosts are an integral part of the faith. There’s the Holy Spirit (I’ve never really understood exactly what that is). Jesus brings people back from the dead. He comes back from the dead. There are lots of visions and other apparitions. The Bible is pretty spooky (when it’s not being downright awful).

OK, so some of those are CLEARLY fake.

One reason I’m predisposed to believing in ghosts is that I’ve had a number of run-ins with the unexplainable. I’ve written about a few of them before. As a teenager, I remember a night when something (at the time I believed it to be an angel) visited me in my bedroom. I woke up to my room being full of soft, white light. In the doorway, there was a figure, or more specifically the outline of a figure. Normally you’d think this would cause panic. But I had none. It was very calm and I feel like whatever the visitor told me (I do not recall now what it was) soothed and eased me.

Could this have all been a dream? Duh. It probably was. But I could also make the argument that everything we experience, everything we think is “real” is nothing more than a dream we accept as “real”. There is no “real” reality. It’s all in our heads, all the time. What’s the difference between thinking something, experiencing something, and knowing it really happened? I would argue not much.

I’ve lived with ghosts for most of my life. The church we went to had them. In moments of quiet solitude, you could feel them, sense them, moving around. It was hundreds of years old in there and that land had been inhabited by people for thousands of years. I never felt scared. At the time, I lived under the delusion of there being an afterlife and a God who sorted everything out. So I just assumed everything going on there was according to the plan.

The first house I owned as an adult had them as well. In the basement, I had a little studio set up where my band rehearsed and recorded. Many times I’d be down there working on something and get the feeling someone was watching me. I’d look up from the computer only to catch a passing glimpse of something in the door’s window. Or did I just tell myself that?

There was also a time when someone (who I thought was my girlfriend at the time) came into the bedroom and sat along the edge of the bed. I could feel their weight on the mattress and hear their steps across the room. They put their hand on my back. It felt so comforting. I was grateful that she was in there. But then when I reached out to hold her hand, I felt nothing. I shot up and saw that no one was there. My girlfriend was sleeping in bed next to me, roused by my sudden movement. Was it a ghost?

I’ve had sleep paralysis for a number of years. If you don’t know what that is, here’s a quick video on it.

It’s terrifying. I’ve never had the feeling of there being a demon or someone trying to smush me. My eyes never open. They can’t. I can’t move ANYTHING. I have no control over my lungs and breathing. I have to lie there, in total darkness, completely awake and yet unable to move. I suffocate. I panic. And the only way to snap out of it is to scream so loudly in my mind that it wakes itself up. I feel like the guy from Metallica’s One video.

I don’t think any of the stuff that’s happened in my bedroom is the result of sleep paralysis. It could be, I’d never count it out, but it feels so different than the other times (calm vs. panic, being able to see vs. being blind, normal control of breath vs. suffocation). Was there really an unearthly presence?

In the house I live in now I am also convinced that ghosts live here. They poke me in the back when I’m writing. They smooth the sheets I sleep under. They’ve unplugged battery chargers and other kinds of mischief. Am I losing my mind? I might be. It wouldn’t be the first time. But I tell you one thing I know for sure: I am never afraid of seeing a ghost.

It’s not because I’m brave or I’ve watched so many horror movies I’m desensitized. I am quite scared of horror actually and almost never watch it. It’s too scary! Life is scary enough! Why would I want to sit down on a comfy couch and CHOOSE to be scared? Nah. No thanks. It’s a lot simpler than that.

If I saw, indisputably, incontrovertibly, and beyond doubt, just one ghost then that would be evidence of some kind of afterlife. Think of how that would change everything we know about… well… everything? It would mean we continue, in some form, after we die. That would be awesome! It would be great if I had some way to prove it to other people but who would believe it? Either way, I’d know and that’d be nice.

I don’t know what happens when you die. I think it’s like turning off a computer. The lights go out, the power is gone, and that’s it. I don’t remember what life was like before I was born and I think it’ll be much the same when I die. Unless of course, ghosts are real and there is so much more to this adventure in reality than we can possibly imagine.