Ghost Stories

I have noticed many times when people are telling me how they are doing, they drift into what I refer to as Ghost Stories.

These are hauntings, the way most of them are told.  We tell the stories so easily it is hard to see that we are stuck inside of a ghost story of our own telling.

For instance, I had a ghost story I was telling about one of my dogs that she was suffering under my care.  I was certain that my busy schedule was not allowing her to have the time she needs to learn to be a relaxed companion dog.  (Ghost story, but I did not recognize it!) And I was fretting about it.  When I spoke with an experienced trainer, she told me she was probably born to be a performance dog and does not do relaxed!  What she recommended was 3-minute training sessions teaching her tricks and games each night right before bed.  That has worked like a charm. She is now the same bouncy dog but I am more light-hearted about it and she really looks forward to our nightly game play.  The ghost story is gone, and I am more relaxed. (She gets a 2-plus mile walk 6 days a week with her pack!) Ghost stories are stories about the past or worries about the future.  Mavis Karns in It’s That Simple, wrote:

“Worry is the learned habit of frightening ourselves with our own imagination.”

Who do you know who tells a story about their past or future that does not bring a warm feeling with it?  I spoke with someone yesterday in the throws of a relationship breakup.  She had so many stories about her former partner, and she also thought there was something wrong with her.  When we let the emotion pass through, which it is designed to do, what we began to see was if the story were told neutrally, there was insight available.  Nothing wrong with either of them, other than they temporarily lost their minds with each other.  And it is a relationship that might need to be complete.  Catching the ghost story allows us to recover more quickly, and to see what is the true nature of things.

Kids are masters at imagination. They invent realities all the time, and then live inside of them.  I distinctly remember weaving tales in my bedroom as a child, enjoying my ability to create the feeling I wanted my plastic horses and I to have in the adventure I invented for us.  The problem with imagination is sometimes we forget we made it all up!  The delightful vignette below, from the book, Being Human, by Amy Johnson, is one of my favorites.  

 

“WILLOW AND BUDDHA”

My girl Willow has the most active imagination of anyone I’ve ever met.  She’s three, by the way.

She will make up scenarios with details that would blow your mind.  I have no clue where she gets this stuff.

She’s not only great at crafting stories, she also has the incredible ability to set aside reality and dive into her tales as if they were absolutely true.

This morning she was on my bed; Buddha, our Zen-like, seven-pound Yorkie was lying on the floor.

I asked Willow to jump off the bed and follow me downstairs for breakfast.  She looked at Buddha and in a very dramatic, damsel-in-distress voice, said,” But I’m scared of Buddha, she’s going to get me! Nooo, Buddha, nooo!”

(Buddha, not amused, looked at me as if to say, “This again?  Am I supposed to growl and nip at her feet or can I go back to sleep?”)

I suggested to Willow that she hop in her hot air balloon and float over Buddha to get downstairs safely.  (She often travels by hot air balloon.)  Then I went downstairs and left her to figure it out.

Five minutes later I was downstairs and Willow wasn’t.  She was crying on the bed.

“Come down!”

“I can’t.  I’m afraid of Buddha!” she cried, sounding honestly afraid.

She wasn’t playing anymore.  Or, more accurately, she forgot she was playing.  She made up a story in her head and was so immersed in it that she forgot she invented it.

I went up to get her.  Her face was soaked with real tears and she looked terrified.  Of a sleepy seven-pound dog named Buddha.

I reminded her that she was only playing a game where she pretended to be afraid of Buddha. That she wasn’t really afraid.  After a few moments, her face lit up and a huge smile appeared.

I said, “You forgot that you were playing a make-believe game, didn’t you?”  She laughed and said, “I’m silly!”

She is silly, but she is also a lot like you and me.  She gets so wrapped up in her own thinking that she forgets that she is the one who invented it.