Ghost Talk Read online

  "You are neither!" His voice shattered the silence and jolted my concentration. The spirit of Wisdom had drifted into my room unnoticed. "Are you suggesting that I am in fact an adopted child? Are the parents I know not my biological caregivers?"

  "Not that either." His smile was gentle and calming. "You are a perfect union between your mother and father. Your spirit is a balance between both of their destinies."

  "But I look more like my father." I said

  "Only on the outside," said the spirit of Wisdom as he slipped through the ceiling of my house and into an unseen world.

  As One Ends, Another Begins!

  "I have done all that I know how, with no results!" I threw my hands up in the air exasperated, admitting defeat. I was trying to move into the spirit world as the Spirit of wisdom had encouraged, but the first steps of success eluded me. I turned to the Spirit, who sat inside the fish bowl, just smiling at me. "Now that you have reached the end of what you know," He blew bubbles as he spoke. "You can begin on the path of what you sense!"

  Player or Drone

  "I am looking for a party!" I wanted to celebrate something, anything! I decided it was time to celebrate my career. "You are headed for the high life!" The balloon decorations floating against the ceiling sang.

  "I am dangerous!" I shouted throwing a victory punch into the air.

  "Ha! You're so bloody bored! You think this is a life, addicted to pollution, loving the filth?" The balloons melted into a bodily form. "The corporate suits own you. You think you have choices in life. The only choice is the color of your pillow slip."

  "Hey," I moaned, knowing the spirit of Wisdom was about to pop my celebration bubble with ugly truth, "It's a life!"

  "And you my foolish friend are no player in this modern world."

  "I am a mover and shaker!" I conned no one but myself.

  "A pollution loving puppet controlled by a pay cheque. A drone!" The spirit faded into the floor taking the light with him. I stood alone in the dark room. "I hate reality checks!" I slumped onto the sofa.

  Ambition vs. Expectation

  "Well, that was no fun!" I said as the door slammed behind me. I threw my kitbag down in the entrance hall and headed for the kitchen. I had participated in a competition at the local shooting range with little success going my way. It was frustrating, as I had won with ease the year before. I plucked open the fridge only to see a minute spirit of Wisdom sitting cross legged on the shelf next to the cola. "That's what expectation will do to you," he said without greeting.

  "What will expectation do?" I took the can of cola from the shelf and closed the fridge.

  "Cause disappointment." The fridge door opened and the spirit floated out and down to the floor. "Should I have gone to the competition without expectation? Should I have expected to lose?" I snapped skeptically.

  "You went last year to have fun. You wanted nothing of the day but to relax and meet new people - and you won. This year you went to win, focused and determined. You returned feeling miserable. Could there be a connection?" The spirit returned to his familiar form and size.

  "Are you saying I should have no ambition in life?" I asked after sipping the cold refreshment. "Ambition is good," said the spirit as he turned into vapor, "but it is very different from expectation." He sank down into the floor and out of sight.

  Beliefs Are Objects

  "You talk about beliefs as if they are objects!" I said to the spirit after his students had all gone. I had been listening to the spirit of Wisdom; posing as a psychologist lecturer, teach a class of university students. We ‘have’ believes, and we ‘own’ beliefs. We ‘get’ them, ‘pick’ them up, ‘gain’ them, and even ‘inherit’ a few. The spirit spoke as if beliefs were pieces of furniture with which we would decorate our home. We choose beliefs that do not ‘clash.' Sometimes we ‘find’ a belief that we like, but it does not suit our lifestyle. The spirit of Wisdom just smiled as I spoke, "You have learned well!"

  Count My Joys

  The day of your triumph, I stood a little distance away, watching you. I watched you radiate with beauty, energy and power. I appreciated the affect you had on the people that surrounded you. I stood in awe as you masterfully influenced your circumstance. I glimpsed the power of life glistening in your eyes. "Nice view?" the spirit of Wisdom had moved in alongside me, as I stood fixated by your strength. I smiled as I remembered how much you are a part of my life, "Just counting my blessings!" I answered.

  Anger Is a Good Substitute

  The white man's anger was apparent in his facial expression, as was the black man's hate. "Humanity has an inexhaustible need for a tangible object of hate," said the spirit of Wisdom. "To which they can direct their wrath and frustration." The spirit rose from out of the floor of my sitting room as he spoke. I was watching a new- broadcast on racial clashes in Sweden. "It looks like a powerful need!" I noticed how ugly the emotion of anger looked on someone face when so openly displayed. Their ugly thoughts change the contour of their body, making them physically repulsive. "This need," continued the spirit, "is much greater than their need to worship a real God!"

  The Breath of God

  "Look behind you," said the spirit of Wisdom as he held my hands tightly in his. I looked and saw my body, peacefully asleep on the bed during a warm summer's night. "You are to travel for a while," said the spirit as he shrank into a tiny speck of light. I looked around and took in the view of my house and my street from this different perspective. I was aware of a tug on my body. I turned to see who or what pulled me. The tiny speck of light drew me closer to itself as it grew. When the brilliant white and gold light engulfed me I saw the familiar figure of the spirit of Wisdom. "Is the light God?" I asked the spirit.

  He smiled, "The light is not God." He put his hand on my shoulder and encouraged me to follow him. "The light is what happens when God breathes out!"

  Consider The Cabbage

  The spirit of Wisdom stood with his hand on my shoulder as I sat with my head buried in my hands, woefully pondering life's turmoil. "Consider the cabbage," he said. "It takes a couple of weeks to develop from a seed to a ripe cabbage. It does not endure hardships of weather or the lack of resources too well. Once harvested, it will comfort man for only a short while. It must be quickly utilized, as its strength fades fast. Now consider the oak tree."

  I saw you standing a way off. It looked as if your legs had sprouted roots and had anchored you to the ground. In a flash I witnessed how the weather formed and molded your beauty. Decades flew as if seconds, and I watched your braches reach tall and spread wide. Your beauty and gentleness was apparent from afar, and it drew many people to the security and comfort of your shelter. Your strength protected them from the storms, and your branches welcomed the birds and fostered their children. As the years slipped away your beauty and grace inspired and affected the many generations that followed. You were the perfect role model for your offspring. The spirit of Wisdom chuckled, "Which of the two would you be?" Then he vanished in a puff of smoke.

  Thank you for the stability, grace and wisdom that you bring into my life.

  Don’t Think It - Live It!

  "Oh my goodness, she is gorgeous!" Her long slim legs vanished into a tight body. Her youthful skin covered her beautiful facial features with such grace. She whooshed past me carrying the sweetest smile ever to visit a human face.

  Bang! - I walked into a lamppost. Startled I looked around to see who was watching, and then was startled again when I looked at the lamppost to see a face smiling back at me. The spirit of Wisdom chuckled. "I could arrange a meeting with her if you like." I rubbed my head where I hit it against the spiritual prankster. "That’s okay; she is just great fantasy material."

  "Be careful!" he warned as he turned into vapor and headed for the nearest storm drain. "If you can think it, you can do it!"

  Buy My Day

  "The ridicule you
suffer seems fair in the eyes of your peers!" The spirit of Wisdom hovered over the flames of my lonely woodland fire. I retread into the woods for comfort, away from jeering friends and family. I am jobless, and was offered money for my days. I turned it down. "A man must eat," said the spirit.

  "They deem me mad because I turned down money for my days? Well, I deem them mad for thinking my days had a price!" We sat in silence. My gaze was fixed on the formless features of the spirit over the fire. “You teach me to live outside the system." I broke the silence. "Yet, you question me when I refuse to partake of the control mechanics of that system – money!"

  "Money is not the evil, loving it is!" The spirit of Wisdom sank into the midst of the fire till I could see him no more.

  Birds Of A Feather

  "They are all alike," I remarked to the spirit of Wisdom as we sat drinking coffee in a popular café. I had been watching a group of professional ladies sitting in the shop. "Yes," the spirit sipped his double espresso. "People like to be around people that are a little like themselves."

  "Birds of a feather flock together!" I looked for a comparison I could understand.

  "It gives them identity, as a group and as individuals." The spirit turned to watch the group of friends.

  "A little shallow and self absorbed, don't you think?" Their conversation and oblivion to the rest of the world made them seem to be very materialistic in life style and superficial in their relationships. The spirit turned back to face me. "So, what do people say about you and your group of friends?"

  Destiny’s Timing

  "Wow!" I was having a long run of very good fortune in my life. Just dumb luck, I thought.

  "Do you really believe that in this realm of planned coincidence and perfect timing, all that has happened to you is just luck?" Smilingly, I hugged my lotto winnings cheque and I nodded my yes. "It happens to be a lot more than just good karma!" The spirit of Wisdom scowled at me. "What could I do that would possibly bring all this unexpected blessing across my path?" I asked, pondering how I would spend my new cash income.

  "You have a super belief system that grabs the Fathers attention." The spirit folded his arms.

  "What is it that I believe that gets heaven to bless me so?"

  "You believe that you are always in the right place at the right time!"

  Fact vs. Television

  "There is hope!’ I insisted. Our conversation centered on the future hope of mankind. The spirit of Wisdom shook his head, and floated to just below the ceiling of the room. The spirit reduced his form to a golden orb emitting bright white light. "This is what I get from a man born in a generation where fact is fantasy and television has become reality."

  Easily Accessible

  "I don't have enough love in my life." I polished the surface of a sculptured piece of wood I had made. The spirit of Wisdom occupied himself by designing a work of art; "There is a way to get more love into your life." He mumbled as he drew lines onto the wood he had chosen to carve.

  "How?"

  "Make yourself easier to be loved by others."

  Guard the Mind

  "I should go on that show!" I spoke aloud as I sat alone watching a popular game show that tested the participants' general knowledge and weeded the weakest player out at the same time. A sound behind me, like two palms rubbing together, caused me to jump. I turned to see the spirit of Wisdom standing behind my chair. "The ideal goal of education should be to discipline, not just clutter, the mind of the individual." His gaze was fixed on the television.

  "You gave me a fright!" I snapped.

  "Rather than fill it with the useless information," he said ignoring my comment. "Education should train the mind to use its own powers." He pointed to the television at it changed to the Cartoon Network. He jumped into a chair and made himself comfortable, "Ah, that's better!"

  Erase Communication

  "He just got the wrong idea." I sat with my arms folded during the interrogation. The spirit of Wisdom was not impressed with my attempts. I had tried to communicate, unsuccessfully, with a difficult human being. "Did you do the positive communication body language I taught you?" The spirit was adamant that I must try again. "He took everything I did and turned it the wrong way." I was exasperated. "I eventually decided to stop everything. I decided to not communicate with him at all." The spirit stopped and stared at me. His eyes were wide and wild. "Every facial expression," he started quietly. "Every gesture, even silence is communication." The spirit's temper was making his body illuminate a blue and purple hue. He spoke louder as he went, finally shouting -"You cannot not communicate!"

 

  Even Change Is Changing!

  "So, you agree that what we see is not real?" I had an opportunity to question the spirit of Wisdom about truth as a relative concept. "What you see is not the only reality, is what I said." The spirit of Wisdom would not commit to anything certain. "How can I?" he asked. "The world and the nature of substance changes all the time. Committing to anything is futile."

  "Are you saying that the world we know, that the nature of matter is changing?" The spirit nodded. "Is there anything that will remain the same?"

  "Only the Word!" He winked and in a blink turned to an invisible vapor.

  If the only thing that will remain constant is the word, should that not be the foundation of our security, instead of materialistic stability?

  Expensive at a Penny

  "Wow! That is really cheap!" I picked up the work of art from the stand at the weekend crafts flea market in our town square. The spirit of Wisdom and I had decided on a stroll, which lead us through the market. The spirit was unimpressed with the flimsy object. "Nothing superfluous is cheap." He said smugly. "If you don't need it, even if it cost a mere penny it is too expensive."

  The Eye of The Storm Has Many Forms

  The spirit of Wisdom stood by me in the raging storm. "There is rest in the eye of the storm." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Yes." I muttered as my thoughts turned to you. The stinging rain turned in to a comfortable and welcoming shower. I watched the lightning dance to the thunders rhythm. My hands became still, my heart filled with calm. The howling winds carried a whisper of hope. You are the eye of my life storms. Just the thought of you brings peace to my world.

  Disease of Choice

  "I have seen you sad before, but never like this…" The spirit of Wisdom dropped into my room through the ceiling. I had been counseling a drug addict friend earlier, who had suffered through some really difficult times only to discover that she had returned to her former life, and continued to pump harmful substances into her body. I explained the situation to the spirit, and sweepingly sought magical help to free my friend from her addiction. Woefully the Spirit shook his head, "I am afraid that no magic or potion will cure her from the disease she suffers."

  I had never regarded drug addiction as a disease before and asked the spirit about the disease that would drive someone to abuse chemicals in such a manner. Looking me in the eye, his answer was straight: "She suffers from the disease of choice!"

 

  Called To Reflect

  "I don't get it!" Roller coaster circumstances and fragile emotions had led me to question the meaning of man's existence. Well, my existence, to be exact. I had moped and groaned to the patient and enduring spirit of Wisdom, whose greatest gift is the ability to listen. He had a manner to make my petty issues feel important. He had a way to make me feel important. "I don't get why I am here on this earth. What is the great plan for my life?"

  "To be a mirror." His calm demeanor and straight answer gave no hint of mockery. I shrugged, "A mirror?"

  "To reflect, even involuntary, the virtues, values, defects, desires and characters of those amongst whom you live."

  Desire Conceals Truth

  "No, don’t leave. Explain what it is you mean!" I attempted to grab the spirit of Wisdom by the arm, but my hands p
ast though his cloak like a truck moving though early morning mist. As I slept, my soul sought counsel from the wise spirit concerning a relationship. I was slow to comprehend the truth in his advice when he blurted out that I choose to be ignorant about the truth. He had said that I knew the truth, but wanted to change it. I asked him for clarification of his statements when he turned and began to leave. He turned to view my futile attempts to hinder his departure. He shook his head, and with a fist he gentle pounded on his own chest, "Desire conceals truth, like darkness conceals a nocturnal predator." He turned and moved out of my dream consciousness, "Your eyes will not see when your heart wishes them to be blind."

 

  First Meeting

  The café was new to me, yet its atmosphere was magnetic and somehow familiar. "Ask the spirit of wisdom." The man behind the counter was serious as he pointed to a gentleman sitting in the corner of the room. I had asked the man about the nature of human kind. A long conversation and quizzical opinions ended with the man behind the counter pointing to the quiet gentleman. It was not the place I regularly visited, nor have I ever found that café again. The gentleman looked up and beckoned me as I turned to see him. I took my coffee and walked to his table. ‘So, you have the answers to the universe?’ I said smugly as I sat down. He gave no immediate answer. "Well?" I pushed. A gentle smile etched across his face as he gentle shook his head. "No, I don’t have the answers to the universe, but I am good friends with the one that does." With those words the gentleman drifted out of his chair, into the air. His body melted through the ceiling and out of sight. Shocked, I ran outside to see if I could catch a glimpse of this mystery flying man. I ran around the outside of the building to no avail. I could see no one. "Let me ask the man I was talking to at the counter," I thought as I searched for the entrance to the café. I could not find the door. The entrance of the café had vanished. I found a small dirty and cracked window, through which I peered into the building in which I had the strange meeting. As I peered into the darkness I realized there was nothing but old rubble, and I wondered if I had spoken to anyone at all that night.