We Are Guardians of a Rare Thing

Hey there.

It was a good day. I got a bunch of work done, even though I lost internet access for a couple of hours (which was more annoying than I’d like). I have a busy few days coming up, so it was nice to have a quiet-ish time today.

And look at Kellie’s roses—we have a third bloom now!

Something that has been on my mind for a few months is the question of signs from beyond the grave.

I know that nobody is going to be able to conclusively prove this one way or the other, and I also want to be clear that I think you can believe anything you want to believe. I think that there are clearly things we don’t understand that exist in the universe, so if that includes your loved ones who have died sending you messages afterward, then who am I to say that’s fake?

I’m no cynic when it comes to people and their capacity for goodness. I’ve regularly been accused of being too kind in all kinds of contexts, and I’m going to default toward trust in most situations.

I’m also a deeply spiritual person, much of the time. Hell, I’m a formal member of a spiritual community for the first time in my life.

At the same time, I’m often a realist. I see folks who try to profit off those who are in pain, and that makes me pretty angry. I’m extremely reluctant to trust any psychic or the like who’s able to have conversations with Kellie for a small (or large) fee. I see plenty of people who publish books or are influencers of one kind or another (and wasn’t Sylvia Browne one of the first scamfluencers of the modern era?) There are clearly those who love fame and attention and money and are making up all kinds of things about the afterlife. I very much doubt that these people are telling anything approaching the truth.

Still, this newsletter is about me, so I should talk about what I believe. I don’t think Kellie is completely gone from the universe, and I think she’s somewhere. I also don’t think it’s possible to carry on a dialogue with her. I don’t think she’s able to send me signs or that a specific bird or thing that randomly happens on a given day is an indicator that she’s watching over me. Maybe you believe those things, but I don’t. And it does cause me a great deal of pain to see just how many people talk about regular back-and-forth conversations with their deceased loved ones, because I’m certain that if it were possible, that Kellie would have found a way to get in touch with me. When you say stuff like that so confidently, it only makes those of us who don’t have a similar experience feel very less-than and even more isolated.

The issue isn’t that I don’t have faith, believe me. That’s something scam artists love to use as a reason why their supposed proof disappears under the slightest scrutiny. The issue isn’t that Kellie and I didn’t love each other enough, either. I’ve seen folks claiming that they have regular visits from their dead spouse but not others in their family who have also died because they weren’t close enough to those folks. If 30 years of utter dedication to each other isn’t enough love and connection to transcend the grave, then I honestly don’t know how it’s possible for anyone else to pull it off.

What’s the harm of believing in things like this? Well, every single psychic or horoscope is going to give you vague enough points that you could generalize them across any number of people and situations. The skill is called cold reading, at least in scammers, and it’s something all kinds of folks are great at. So maybe the goal is tricking you out of money. And maybe the goal is getting you to love and respect the one conduit between you and your loved one. And maybe I just get offended at the thought of people believing things that aren’t accurate. I think that sets off my justice sensitivity sometimes.

Yes, you’re primed to want to see all kinds of things and make the assumption that it’s a sign from the person you’ve lost. There’s a natural human sense of pattern recognition that plays a role here. And we all desperately WANT there to be a way to stay in touch with those who have died. I do too. I just don’t think it’s a real thing.

If it gives you comfort, then I’m glad. Because I want you to have comfort in your life. But don’t tell me with utmost sincerity that your dead spouse visits you every night in your dreams and so that means you aren’t sad they’re gone anymore—I’ve only been able to have one of those chats with Kellie in a dream since she died, and if there was a way I could make that happen every single night, I sure would. That’s my brain talking to me, though, not her talking to me. And if your love transcended death but mine couldn’t, then you’re fortunate. I just don’t think it’s possible.

They talk about bargaining, and I think part of the whole bargaining thing is trying to figure out what you can do or how to seek out just one more conversation, just one more sign that they’re not actually gone. When I hear these kinds of stories, though, it doesn’t give me more hope that Kellie’s not really gone. I’ll remind you that true faith in something means that you don’t need proof—the requirement of proof you’re putting out there shows your lack of faith, actually. If you really believed that they were still out there somewhere, that should be enough for you without also having to find a four-leaf clover in the yard or something.

I hope that clears that up, or at least gives you a window into my views on this topic. It doesn’t lessen my pain when you tell me this stuff, and it’s likely to make it worse. Keep feeling how you feel or believing what you believe, just please don’t spread it in my direction.

I’m not saying not to see or hear or remember something and be reminded of Kellie! It’s wonderful to hear a bird’s joyful song and have that make me think of her. I’m just saying that isn’t Kellie directly sending me that bird. Is the universe sending me that bird? Maybe so? I guess I just see a pretty clear distinction there.

I’m also feeling like a very old forty-nine this evening, so it’s probably time for me to go to bed. Busy day ahead.

XOXO,

Matt