Today I’m going to share a story about how my own brain f*cked me hard, together with a pair of wet jeans (I promise it’s different than anything you can imagine!)
Many many years ago when I was just a young boy (I think I was about 13 years old), my family and I had to move in with my grandparents because my grandmother got very ill and someone had to take care of her. We did what we could, but unfortunately, she passed away after one year.
Even though my grandfather had us and he seemed to cope with his wife’s death very well, he didn’t because after a few more months he also passed away. And that’s the moment when my ghost-y story begins. Before going forward, I must say that I don’t believe in ghosts and I never did, but in that period I was watching a lot of A Haunting on Discovery Channel, therefore my subconscious was full with ghosts (but I wasn’t a believer… I guess). Also, both my grandparents died in the house we were living.
I remember it very clearly. It was a hot summer day, one week after my grandfather passed away. I was home alone since my parents were working and school was off due to summer holiday. What could a 13 y/o kid do in a hot summer day without a PC or a phone? Yes, you guessed it! I went outside and play. We were living in a house at country-side in a village full of old people so there were no other kids to play. As always, I was my own play partner. It was very hot in august, so all my games involved some form of cold water.
Because I needed some form of container for that water, I searched around the house and I found an orange plastic jar. After that, I grabbed my toy soldiers and we started a “pool party” on the balcony. Since the plastic jar was small, I was sitting down so I could peacefully play. At one moment, I had to get up (I don’t remember why…people usually get up from time to time) and that’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder. At that moment, I metaphorically sh*t myself because I knew I was all alone, therefore the only “logical” explanation was a ghost (yes, I know that’s not how a non-believer thinks). My body was all in fight-or-flight mode and all I could think about was to slowly turn and say “Hello grandpa’!”
So I slowly turned and when I was about to say my magnificent line, I realized I was touched by a pair of wet-ish jeans. It seems that the day before, my mother did some laundry and since we had no dryers back then, we had to take the clothes outside to get them dry by hanging them on a long wire. Apparently, my pool party was exactly under the clothes so when I got up, the jeans “attacked” me.
The conclusion? Our mind f*cks us and the sooner we realize it, the better we can understand the way it works. Our thoughts, opinions and impressions “come” to us for a reason and they are strongly connected with our core beliefs.
When was the last time your mind f*cked you up so hard?