Unquestioned

Eventually, I had to stop hanging with folks who claimed to see ghosts or hear God. You can only hear supernatural stories so long without experiencing them, wondering who's lying, imagining, or insane. Or maybe I was the blind man fumbling, doubting what the seeing say. What good is chasing things I can't perceive? Most of us share the senses of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch. Mine function well enough to recognize what's presented, and don't demand special abilities to get it. Despite a lack of extra-sensory experience, I've never considered it my purpose to go doubting. I'm not some professional skeptic, trying to bust a myth or prove a story wrong. Heck, half the tales I write are word of mouth, unfalsifiable, no historic record to cross-reference. I sure hope they're true, but there's more to life than facts.

Spiritual statements insist on shared belief. No one making them is happy having you shrug your shoulders, saying: "Sure, maybe." When someone stands up in church with a testimony, sits down by the fire for a ghost story, or writes a book on their alien abduction — the intent is to go unquestioned. You're supposed to leave with greater faith, and an unshakable notion that all they said was true. They weren't hallucinating, it was a vision. They weren't schizophrenic, it was a voice from on high. I can't help but be suspicious when people want to believe. Even when I most wanted that myself, nothing came calling. Was I too sane?

So I drifted from people with fantastical tales. They never did me good, just formed a longing for strange things the specially chosen shared. I fell in love with metaphor instead. Mythology might be weak in evidence, but lingered to teach us about human nature and finding purpose. This newfound love carried me to deeper passions, the raw emotional expression in art, romance, and joys that every able person perceives. I doubt I'll spot a spectre floating, hear a deity speak, spy a swirling saucer, or Bigfoot hiking in the nude. Even if I did, I might question my sanity and seek treatment. Reality is wondrous enough.

June 27, 2025
Phinney's Cove, Nova Scotia

Year 18, Day 6438 of my daily journal.