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i do believe in spooks. i do. i do believe in spooks.

go ahead and laugh. i cried myself to sleep on saturday night. yeah…that’s not the funny part. i cried myself to sleep because i was afraid of a ghost.

see, i was staying at the notoriously haunted fort garry hotel in winnipeg and they put me in the room directly adjacent to the room directly above the notorious 202.

okay…so you can laugh now. but for whatever it’s worth, there is a shared door between 302 and my room, 304, so to any logical ghost, it might as well be the same room. ghosts don’t need doors anyway. and they don’t really care about ceilings.

and you’re probably wondering why i am putting this in my yoga blog.

in a word: spirit.

you say you don’t believe in ghosts? i say this…

do you believe in spirit?

do you believe that there is more to you than simple flesh and blood?

like your feelings and your personality and your individuality…do you believe those are just basic anatomy and physiology? just a brain and a heart to make you go and pow! there’s you in all your awesome you-ness?

isn’t the whole structure of yoga created in deference to the sacred triumvirate of mind, body and spirit? and so, yogi/ni, don’t you believe in spirit?

well…ghosts are spirits.

a spirit is separate from mind and body. mind and body are the ephemeral parts of our being. spirit is the eternal.

and so, yogi/ni, what do you think happens to the spirit after the body dies? i personally cannot believe that the beating of a heart has anything to do with the continuity of a spirit. and while i do believe in reincarnation big time (i really hope i come back as a lap dog to the queen), i also believe that sometimes spirits get stuck in between. why? who the hell (or heaven) knows? unfinished business, i guess.

as far as i’m concerned, the funny thing isn’t that i believe in ghosts, but just that i’m so deathly afraid of them. so much that i would stay up crying all night just in case one came to visit me in the haunted hotel. like what would happen if it did? if the chair started rocking, the closet door flung open, or even if the walls started bleeding? (my fear tears are welling up just thinking about it).

certainly, i would fly out of the room, screaming down the halls in my underwear. but what else would happen? nothing, i guess. i’m trying really hard to get that through my thick frightened skull.

now my only worry is whether the ghost followed me home to l.a….

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