confessions of a supernatural nature
The probability of supernatural events has been a popular discussion topic of late. I have maintained a firm stance of absolute disbelief in the possibility of supernatural occurrences at any point in history for two reasons: reported supernatural events in history always have a possible explanation in the physical world that we now understand; and if we can’t prove the existence of supernatural forces now, why should we believe they occurred in the past and mysteriously stopped at the point we could test them?
But I’m beginning to suspect my unwavering declaration is slightly disingenuous. Last night I was given pause for thought on my own secretly buried and consciously dismissed belief in the untestable supernatural.
We’re preparing to leave our current country of residence and experiencing a measure of the typical stress levels that such an upheaval brings, regardless of the desire to make the actual move. Packing up the lives of two adults and a baby, while applying for jobs online to help ease our uncertain future, and dealing with the emotional anxiety of the family left behind in an insecure country on the brink of economic collapse, has taken its toll. (Obsessional blogging habits for which there is no time can be put in a therapy/relaxation category for now.)
Last night at 4am lightening struck our tin-roofed home. We have lots of thunderstorms here and they are often dramatic affairs, with a build up of furious winds and rumblings and flashings all over the sky. Last night there was no build up, no approaching storm, just one isolated crack of house-shaking, rib-cracking thunder and an accompanying strike that I’m sure hit our home and woke us both up in state of sheer terror. Now, I didn’t think it was Zeus teaching me not to take his name in vain, but I did have sneaky suspicion that our heightened anxiety gave an accompanying electric charge that attracted all the power of the storm to our one humble abode. That is superstition. That is taking a coincidental and unusual event, and building a pseudo-natural, untestable and ridicule-worthy hypothesis based on self-centred concerns.
Houses with sad histories retaining a sense of depression, my dog’s uncanny ability to read my thoughts (I’m sure my actions aren’t so repetitive and predictable), tandem thinking with my boyfriend, and, worst of all, a strange man with a dark aura who passes both my sister and I at times of change and trauma. All these things I believe have natural explanations, and would defend completely rational and logical reasons in any open discussion, but deep down my superstitious core believes there’s something more going on. Are these simply deep-seated irrational and primitive yearnings for a ‘more to life than this’? Or could there be aspects of the natural world we’ve yet to discover that would help explain any of this? And if so, is that all the supernatural is?