Ghosts. They’re constantly trying to keep you involved in their repeating patterns.
Ghosts. They’re two of the five stages of grief.
Ghosts. They turn weak minds obsessive and weaker minds mentally ill. Those people become pillars, lightning rods, doorways through which hauntings come to pull those nearby into a dark night of the soul.
Ghosts. When the eye of wonder stops gazing through the heavens, shadows on the ground do fascinating things.
Ghosts. They’re a bit like you and me.
Ghosts. Redundancy.
***
Is the idea that ghosts cling to this world for sensory experience a reflection of our fear of true meditation? True meditation is silence, stillness. What’s taught of mediation is action: breathing techniques, quieting the mind, looking at thoughts as they drift in and out of existence, and so on.
Ghosts are supposed to be dead and yet they roam, eternally craving sensation, narrowed though their ability to feel is, like any good meditation master. The meditation master says, “Even in silence there is a witness,” which means there is no silence at all. The hungry ghost says, “Even in death there is a life of desire,” which is no death at all.
Ghosts. They’re a bit like you and me.
Ghosts. Redundancy.