Posted by: scribbles | October 12, 2008

Strange but True.

It is such a glorious day that Skinny and I are drawn outside by a welcoming, beckoning, warm October sun.  We take our usual route down the lane between the fields but this time feeling drawn away from any potential encounters along the way, we walk far out into the stubble field.  The sun is so warm, the air so clear, I have a strange feeling that I am walking through summer and not Autumn.  There’s a slight breeze and I breathe in deeply and suddenly I am hit by a strange feeling.  I have a strong sense of others who have walked these fields in days gone by.  Carried on the air, I sense men in old fashioned farm clothes with flat caps and cloth trousers, neckerchiefs around their necks and straw between their teeth.  I smell the sweat of the giant horses, straining to pull a plough, leather harnesses, greasey reigns rubbing across sweet smelling hair.  And then it’s gone.  There’s just Skinny and I and the sound of my footsteps as I stride through the dry stubble.

This strange feeling of the past comes to me unbidden and unexpectedly from time to time.  It comes from the air itself as I breathe it.  I see it as some kind of long forgotten, little used sense that we all must have to some degree or another.   Often it is a faint, wisp of something I can’t quite make out, as illusive as a word on the tip of your tongue, so frail that if you dare to think of it, it will be lost to you.  Sometimes what I sense is strong and consists of many thin threads that weave into a picture. I see a knight on a horse, men in a battle, monks in a monastry all of which could stem from imagination and prior knowledge or at least be inspired by surroundings.  But whilst I am imaginative, these things usually come upon me when I am thinking of nothing whatsoever.  When I am just soaking up the environment, the warmth of the sun, the sound of the birds, thinking nothing at all.  Over time I’ve learnt to distinguish the differences and fine lines between a spooky feeling, a chill up my spine or a sense that I am not alone, and this particular sense that comes along unattached to any pre thought or suggestion.

It is odd, I know.  It doesn’t happen too often either but always takes me completely by surprise.  It is more of a feeling rather than a thought.  I have always thought of it akin to a dog’s ability to sense things on the air and I think our ancient ancesters would have had a much more developed sense at their disposal.  It is similar to instinct and gut feeling but not quite those.  sometimes it is so strong and others a mere ghost passing through my mind, leaving tiny footprints that I cannot follow.  A pale wash of something and nothing.

I’ve always been very sensitive to my environment.  I always said I could never live anywhere ugly.  Of course beauty is in the eye of the beholder but for me, ugliness lies in modern, bland, functional buildings; 1960’s tower blocks and social housing, municipal buildings, green/gray paint of hospitals and courts and police stations.  I lived in a tower block once in north London.  It was up on a hill overlooking the city in a bleak landscape of smaller blocks.  These were places of despair to me.  Poverty was everywhere from crying babies to cars up on chocks with wheels missing.  The corridors were painted the inevitable gray/green, ill lit with ugly strobe lighting and the lift was covered in grafitti and stank of urine.  I sensed the underlying violence and hopelessness in the ugly words and dreadful smell.  It was winter then and the wind whistled through the building clearing the smell of a million lives in tiny shoeboxes.  Smells of cooking, spices, fat fryers, sounds of TV’s echoing, children shouting and adults arguing.  I had to get out of there.  I was so afraid.  Afraid to go home at night on my own, afraid of the anonymous people that wrecked their own lifts and corridors and cars and families.  So strong was the sense of awfulness that had I stayed there, my own soul would be lost along with theirs. I did leave.

I’ve written previously on my blog about ghostly experiences I’ve had and I do believe that I am slightly ‘sensitive’ to ghostly goings on.  Mediums and psychics say that everyone has some psychic ability and it is a question of developing it.  I think this is true and I think this mystery sense that I have from time to time is similarly something we can all feel and is left over from when the human being was more in tune with instinct and senses and nature, more like animals still are.  We are all animals and we share the same sense of fear, loneliness, joy.  Some of our ‘animal’ senses have diminished as our lives have changed and we have lost those that are less obvious and well hidden deep within ourselves.

People think of ghosts as imprints left within the atmosphere where an incident has occured, especially a violent episode which gives the feeling strength and the emotions left to be felt by others.  I wonder if, in fact, there are invisible holes where these past existences are being played out in another dimension and occasionally, when the wind is right, the magnetic fields in place, I sense them around me but not with me.  Maybe that is an explanation.

I can see that people might be wondering if I’ve lost my marbles at this point.  Maybe I have but in that case I never had them to begin with.  We are, according to another commenter on a different blog, in ‘Mercury retrograde’, though I don’t really know what that means.  It can, apparently, account for strange happenings and we are also coming up to Halloween so if nothing else, it’s a good time to be discussing the unusual. If anyone else can relate to what I am talking about, let me know.  I’d love to hear about anyone else with stories of the unusual.  Tales of the unexpected perhaps.

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Responses

  1. I think our mind is the most powerful weapon we have, as a mankind.

    I also think that we sometimes fall victim of our own minds which we mostly are not in control of (well documented fact that we know only how to use a fraction of our brain capacity, what goes on in the rest…?)

    I sort of sit on the fence with all things “paranormal”. My mum is a very spiritual creature and also well read/educated in phychology and philosophy. She tells me of mystical things sometimes when we stay up late at night and drink wine. She does not hypothesise about these things, she speaks of them with remarkable clarity and conviction.

    I have had one or two inexplicably uncanny dreams which I could not have “dreamt up” as I was not aware of certain parallel events at the time.

    I have not found a doctrine or a theory that I’d be happy to subscribe to, not that I have spent any serious amount of time looking into these things either.

    In the case of my mother, the experiences came to her. I use this to justify my nonchalant attitude. These things will come to you, if they are true, when the time is right and the rest…

    aa*

  2. Hi AA,
    I think the fact we only use a part of our brain is at the core of these sort of things. I don’t know if I explained very well exactly what I mean in my post. It is so difficult to pin down. Other wierd things that I didn’t mention were that I dreamt that my brother was in a crash the night before he actually was and died. And I ‘felt’ him on my bed in my room at home, for a few days after which completely spooked me, though my Mum told me I had nothing to fear from him, which was true. It was still spooky though. The truth is out there!

  3. We are all of a part of everything that has ever been and everything that ever will be. There is nothing new under the sun. I believe we all share a sort of cosmic conciousness and can connect with it at times when the normal background chatter that constantly bombards our brains occasionaly stops (Buddhists aim to achieve this through meditation). Nearly every atom in this universe becomes recycled constantly. Who’s to say atoms don’t have a residual memory of what they have been previously. There are perhaps carbon, hydrogen or oxygen atoms in you right now that were once a part of Napoleon. Perhaps what you feel are cosmic echoes on an atomic scale?

    P.S. Thanks for including my link in your blogroll. I’ll return the favour when I’ve got a little more content and start to promote it a little more seriously.

  4. Hi Rudi,
    I think that is the best explanation and seems reasonable to me. I do find it odd at times and I wondered if anyone else ever gets these type of moments. It’s fascinating and the more we learn about our universe the more amazing and believable previously unexplained things are!


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