There are more things in heaven and earth...

I'm a cynic.  I wouldn't call myself a non-believer because I try to keep an open mind but I want PROOF.  Those ghost hunter shows just crack me up.  I mean seriously - the ghosts are always there right when the film crews are there, right on time for the next show.  Yeah, right.  And people who hear voices, people who converse with God, nut-jobs right?  Right!  Well, maybe.

Because I can't dismiss God, spirits, even ghosts indeterminately.  I can't because I've had some experiences that have left me wondering.

1.  The first occurred about 12 years ago when I was still married.  As anyone who's been married for a while and has small kids can tell you, together time is hard to find.  My husband and I had planned a date night and I was running late so, as usual, I was hauling ass.  All of a sudden I heard a voice - say "SLOW DOWN!"  First I dismissed it.  I told myself - Ok girl, you are clearly losing it, hearing things, crazy woman, etc. etc.  But I couldn't dismiss the feeling of abject terror that came over me when I heard the voice.  Have you ever had a gun barrel pressed against your forehead?  I have.  And this voice produced the same feeling in me as looking down the barrel of that gun did.  So, I slowed down.  A few minutes later my tire blew out and my car veered across the road.  I did a complete 360 before I managed to pull over to the side of the road.  I sat in my car shaking.  Literally shaking with goosebumps all over me.  A little further down the road was a sharp curve with a bridge just past it.  I kept thinking that that's where my tire would have blown if I hadn't slowed down. 
Was it ESP, was it my guardian angel?  I don't know.  I wish I did but I don't.

2.  I have a friend who used to be a bull-rider.  Championship buckles and all.  He's also a poet.  Calls himself the Cowboy Poet.  He came to town one night for a poetry reading and invited me to come along.  He was one of several poets who got up to read some of their poetry.  One of them was an elderly Indian gentleman.  I sat in that brightly lit room in a folding chair and was completely carried away by his poetry.  Enough so that I sat there with my eyes closed,  just listening.  I smelled the campfire smoke, I heard the crackling of the wood popping in the fire, I felt the breeze, and when I opened my eyes the room was filled with mist.  I mean really, I SAW mist rolling in the room as though we were outside.  Afterwards I jokingly told my friend I must have skipped one too many meals because I was seeing things and told him what had happened.  I laughed it off but to be honest it shook me.  He went on to tell the old Indian gentlemen who told him that I was very lucky because I had been touched by the spirits.
Was it the spirits?  Was I just caught up in the moment?  I don't know but I can tell you one thing I am not at all a visual person.  I can't visualize anything.  Not the faces of people I've known for years, not even my kids.  Where does that leave me?  Wondering.  That's all.

As Shakespeare wrote "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."