Wanna Haunt Yourself? Couldya Haunt Yourself?

(me building a snowman outside the front veranda at Aspen Grove)


It's funny how one thought leads to another until you're not sure what started the snowball?

I was thinking one day about how my father, mother, brother, sister, and family friend all vowed to haunt my childhood home. I was thinking about the family promise to haunt Aspen Grove, and wondered--would I want to haunt the house as it is now? Since a contractor tore down the outbuildings and built condo's around it? No, I'd rather haunt the house as it was when we lived there, everything intact; stables, barn, two cottages, boxwood mazes, arbors, orchards, thicket, creek...

That got me thinking the next thought; what if I could go back and haunt myself when I lived there?

I've always said that should souls exist, we're two linear in our thinking. Many family members can see the spirit of a passed loved one upon their passing at the same time. If we are no longer limited by our body's physical form from this plane, then why would our minds have to be in one place at one time? There should be no limits to such things, no reason you can't visit your future descendants or your past ancestors in their living time on the Earth. At least, it seems like a perfectly logical conclusion once you're freed up of time/space issues that humans have to endure.

It intrigues me to think that perhaps I've visited myself as a child, influenced a decision, stopped some horrible calamity (like the time I played with a snapping turtle or ate a bunch of sleeping pills thinking they were blue M&Ms). What if when we are alone with ourselves and having our most self doubt, praying, crying out when no one can hear, begging the fates to change things, that perhaps we hear our own pleas. We are present. We also realize our own outcome, that this feeling will pass and tomorrow will change everything, and in a week we won't remember feeling so morose.

At the times I've felt the most sorry for myself, pouted, and kicked like a child that I didn't want to do something, somewhere deep inside me I've heard a strangely familiar but more mature voice telling, "only people who feel helpless feel sorry for themselves. You're not helpless. You can do something. Do it! You big baby!" And then I muster up my courage and do the dreaded deed and then feel a strange click in the measurement of my maturity level.

Can I be my own cheerleader for my present self with the wisdom of a soul that's figured out that all of this here on the earthly plane is nothing more than an ongoing test of character? A test to reach the level where, being free of the chains of an aging body, I can be trusted to have freedom, having earned it?

Trusting that tomorrow is completely new, no matter how much you try to recreate today, you cannot have the same dismal day twice in a row. Something distracts you, some silly little serendipitious thing happens, and you smile. You feel a moment of hope. You start on a new course.

Perhaps if we could haunt ourselves, it would be for the soul (pun intended) purpose of distracting us enough to get through hard moments and stumble into the next good moment, because sure enough they constantly cycle.

Next time you make a decision, you might consult your future self. And, don't be surprised if you get an amazingly mature answer.