Talking to Dead Relatives and Friends

Source. Pexels. Caio.

 Inquiry by LJ Frank

 

 

 

It mostly happens in the middle of the night, especially when it’s raining, and yet there are times it occurred when I heard someone playing a guitar in the street, or as varied as hearing a Buddhist Monk chanting OM, the primordial sound of the universe.

It feels like I am awake though I am half asleep and my mind is manufacturing a scene whereby a conversation is occurring with a physically dead friend, or relative – sometimes it’s an uncle or aunt or cousin, or my father, mother, a sister, or daughter, all now deceased. We are engaged in a conversation and while it may appear I am doing much of the talking they seem to be enjoying what I have to say and do interject encouragement through facial expression.

The things I notice about our conversations is that the people in the scenes are smiling or nodding their heads in acknowledgement and mouthing a silent question here and there as I relay information to them about happenings in my life and the events of the day. And as I think back over these dream-like scenes that feel quite real, I am giving them updates to where I am at and perhaps why. I say this as if it is an attempt to expand upon the better parts of one’s life or at least the perception of it. I want to communicate that which was not communicated when we were alive together.

It can be a bit strange with a dose of melancholy to think of people that you wished you had more conversations with….and find time has passed by and the wish is now in an archive of what might have been. So, I suppose I talk to dead people to remedy a situation or relationship that needed a different script so to speak, or at least to extend or expand an existing script from a deeper intellectual and numinous vista.

I suppose it’s like being in a play on life’s stage and you’re not sure which act you’re in, but you know you want to correct a lack of intimacy and dialogue that was previously experienced when those friends and relatives were alive. But you simultaneously know that given the context of your own foibles, weaknesses, and the quality of your relationship, that any such connection was complicated by the physical and existential reality of that moment while alive and awake. All the while further complexed by an intuitiveness seeking harmony.

We all process things differently and it easy to be judgmental when somethings fall outside our life experiences or field of vision or web of understanding. Openness is not easy as most people don’t trust or perhaps, they sense a discomfort about someone who is too talkative and revealing and those moments extend to months and even years. Why become so vulnerable and cause suffering? And then there’s luck and chance. How many detours have I taken to avoid potential disharmony?

How much is genetically scripted in each of us and the path we take, though not fate, are my genes simply playing out their script on a stage that I question whether I could have at least been in a more expansive or different role or theater? 

My conversations are generally convivial and have the effect of resolving many of those things that come under the heading I wish I’d had known then what I know now.

The waking dreams are the opportunity through my Mind’s Eye to explore the relationships on a more profound level and perhaps make corrections in the future if given the opportunity with others. And, I have had a few Mind’s Eye type of experiences and also wonder if ancient human’s pineal gland (location of Mind’s Eye) was more fully developed as it didn’t have the mechanical and technological intrusions we have today.

Some ancient philosophers thought the Mind’s Eye allowed a connection between the physical and spiritual worlds and was the basis for the more provocative mental images we experience. I don’t think of myself as a mystic but I am terribly curious. I have more questions than answers. And suffice it to say, there are many things I don’t know some of which bothers me like a word or words that are absent from the tip of my tongue but I know they exist.

Amid these images between being a wake and asleep, there was at least one event in the past that if I had to do it all over again, I probably would have taken another path. And even given my intent and motivation to act, perform, and pursue a particular path other than the one I was on, would the outcome be different. Of course, it would. The process would be on another level or different stage in a different theater and the script would be edited differently. They always are. Editing takes courage.  And I sometimes think as a friend once suggested that it’s the difference between the Road Taken versus the Road Not Taken though occasionally, I sense I may experience a bleed through reality from the Road Not Taken.  

The most intriguing question might be factoring in chance and luck onto the existing path and the resulting directional changes and whether our various “realties” as viewed from a distance, merge in the end?