I've really been thinking about my life these past few days. Basically just trying to figure out if I truly felt moments of non-humanness or if I was just a really lonely person all my life.
Surprisingly, it's actually been kind of reassuring! There are so many little moments from my past that make me feel so much more connected to (what I suspect is) my kintype. I want to type some out here to remember them.
While we have been fairly estranged for a while now, the Greek side of my family really influenced my childhood. Like many kids I was obsessed with their mythology. I remember finding their beliefs about the afterlife to be so comforting. Once you die, it's true that you'll never be the same living soul again. But you'll still be around, in a way. An echo of your life remains to wander around the underworld, a shade.
I've always liked that term for ghosts, too. Just shade. A faint shadow of yourself, but still you. Not just a piece of you like "revenant" or something. It's almost soothing.
I've always been fond of the wind. For a very long time when I was little, I was convinced I could control it. A light breeze, a gust, anything I wanted, the winds would be. When the wind howled, I chose to think it was speaking to me. I liked to thank the wind for whoever was indulging my requests. I live in a very windy place now, and I still can't shake my fondness for its impermanence and power despite its lack of a corporeal form.
As I've said before, I'm not much of a religious/spiritual person. But when I was little, I held a sort of "might as well be nice to them just in case all of this IS real after all" kind of attitude. Occasionally, I would verbally acknowledge the "ghosts" in my room, asking them politely to not scare me or hide in my closet or something. I would say bye to them when my family went out. Sometimes I'd just talk to my invisible peanut gallery. I couldn't verify their existence, but I figured they appreciated someone to be with. I got to be with them too, really.
The moment that stands out the most to me is a dream I had a couple years ago that I've never been able to forget. I was a ghost, in every possible way, and I was so happy. I caused some mischief stealing from the supermarket, ran right out the front door. From there I went through some back rooms (liminal spaces have always been pretty calming to me) to a movie theater. After that, I just walked and watched so many people. It all felt vague and ephemeral, but there was an indescribable sort of beauty in knowing that my not-belonging made me appreciate people more. Made me appreciate life in general more. I loved being able to see it all from a spectator's point of view.
I wish I could believe in something more than a cut to black once I die, because I would be eternally fulfilled if my shade could linger around long after I'm gone.