Okay, this is serious confession time. I’m laying it out there for the whole world to read. Please don’t judge me harshly or wrap me up in one of those warm, fuzzie white jackets. Certainly, do not let me lay down on a red couch so you can record my dreams.
I believe in ghosts. Just today, I had to do some quick billing at our church preschool and stopped by at 6:45am to get it done. DH had just left for work. I, in my jammies with coffee mug in hand, unlocked the church and let myself in. (Is this blasphemy?)
Obviously, I was the first–and only–crazy person there. Yet there was a light on in the men’s bathroom directly across from the preschool door in the spooky, dark hallway. Just a little FYI, these lights are motion sensor thingys that come on when the door is opened. Only when the door is opened or when someone who’s been hiding inside moves around.
Only. And it was on in an otherwise silent and empty church.
I let myself in the preschool and locked the door behind me. Yep, cuz I didn’t want the ghost coming in after me.
Crazy, creepy thing number two?
The bathroom light in the preschool was on and the door was closed. Also, the radio was on and blaring out white noise. No sane person could have missed the static and not turned it off before departing from the room. Besides, the radio is only used as a CD player which does not hiss. Someone obviously turned it on–to the channel-less station of static.
So here’s my theory.
My church is haunted. By a bunch of weak-bladdered ghosts who like to rock out to the White Noise Band.
I say this jokingly, but I really do believe in ghosts. Always have. Even as a kid I knew that spiritual beings shared my world. Maybe not yours, but mine.
Let me clarify by asking the ever famous question: If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a noise?
If spiritual beings exist in this world and nobody believes in them, are they really here?
Or conversely, if a ghost lives in your house, but you don’t believe in it, does it really exist?
How much is truth founded in belief? Can imagination make reality?
On some level, do writers believe what they write? Does JK believe that maybe, just maybe, there is a touch of magic in this world? Do you?
And more importantly, why was the bathroom light on when I got there and off when I left? Because if the sensor thingy malfunctioned shouldn’t the light have stayed on?
I believe in something–even if it’s just my imagination.