From Beyond

I had a conversation the other day about ghosts. OK, to be honest, I butted into a conversation that was already going on about ghosts. One co-worker had said to another, “I think there’s a ghost in my new apartment. I turned off my alarm and fell back asleep, but suddenly, inexplicably, my bedroom light turned on all by itself!” The other person readily accepted this explanation, and proceeded to tell her own story of other-worldly hijinks, as if it is a common occurrence for the spirit world to help or hinder us as they see fit. I simply cannot sit idly by while topics like this are discussed. I try to mind my own business, but the temptation is too great. “Why,” I asked, “would a ghost take time out from his or her incorporeal activities to make sure you don’t oversleep?” The answer, of course, was that it was a “good ghost.”

Can I say for certain that there is no such thing as a ghost? No, but by the same token, we cannot automatically attribute peculiar happenings to the supernatural. There are, though, those who claim not an unseen visitor, but a visual apparition. You know somebody who tells that story, often made to seem more plausible because a child saw it too, and why would the little darlings lie, or, to be fair, make up a story? They stand firm in their belief that they “saw” a ghost, and no amount of logic or alternate (read: plausible) explanations will make them change their minds. I suppose if I saw one, I would change my tune, but until then, I stand firmly in the realm of the explainable, always keeping in mind that the person who tricks you the best is yourself.

Anyone who knows me knows I can’t get enough of horror movies, stories, and supernatural fiction, so it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with spooky stuff. There are times when I wish there were monsters. (One of my favorite fantasies involves gorgeous female vampires that look a lot like Elvira, but I don’t think I should write that down.) I can’t say I’ve seen a ghost, but there have been times I have felt that things just weren’t quite right, like I wasn’t alone. Every time this has happened, I’ve been outside. I hope, if I ever find myself wandering the earth after I’m dead, that I’m in a forest somewhere, and not trapped in some skittish girl’s bedroom. Anyway, there’s something about being in nature that lets me allow the possibility of ghosts, or at least, another consciousness. Just the other night, in fact, I witnessed a scene that, if ever there was one, infused me with the feeling of other-worldliness.

The sliding patio door of my (new) apartment faces west, so every night I get to see the sun go down. That may not seem like a big deal, but I’ve always been a bit partial to sunsets. So, a couple days ago, I walked past the slider just in time to see the sun go past the huge live oak tree it always shines on before it goes away. This, of course, was nothing new, but a couple minutes later, I walked into the bedroom of the apartment, which faces east, and was more than a little surprised to see the window lit up with the deep orange glow that only comes from a sunset. Well, now, as you can imagine, this just wasn’t right at all, so I walked back to the other room and went outside to see just what was going on.

When I stepped out onto my patio, it was the same view I always see, but it was lit from the wrong side. It was surreal and fascinating. Everything was as it should be, except it was wrong. What had happened was that the setting sun had illuminated a huge blanket of clouds that hung to the east; they looked like they were on fire. The reflected light from these clouds shone down upon my little corner of the earth and lit the dusk for a second time, except from the opposite direction. All the buildings, the trees, the grass, everything glowed in an unearthly seeming scene, except that it was earthly, the same scene I see every day…only different. It was like being high, only better. It lasted about ten minutes, the time it took me to have a smoke, and then it was over. Right as it ended, a cat meowed at my patio door. Still marveling at the backwards sunset, I let it in into the patio area and it wrapped around my legs, greeting me like I was an old friend. Weird, huh?

Perhaps what I saw is what people who see ghosts experience: They see the world, for just a moment, in a different way. Now, I don’t mean to imply that the weird lighting and the meowing cat were signs from Mr. Kitty (see previous post) stranded in feline limbo, but it was really weird. I still don’t believe in ghosts, but it did cross my mind. In any case, the nub of my gist, I guess, is that ordinary things seen in a different light have a way of firing the imagination. And that’s good.