Why Paranormal?

I am not an expert on much.  Certainly not on the paranormal, although I do consider myself a student of it.  People often ask me "Why ?".  They want to know if there is some seminal event some alpha moment that threw me into this field of interest.  Did I have an experience as a child?  Did I lose a loved one young?  Did I have a near death experience?  The answer to all of these is no, that isn't really how it happened.

My patent answer to this question is 'I came out this way."  And I think it is true.  I cannot remember a time when I wasn't fascinated by this subject.  Not so much monsters or horror, but with death and the survival of it.  My natural inclination leaned toward the unusual, the boundaries, if you will, of normal.  I was not a kid that was interested in being scared, necessarily, but I definitely took to the darker subject matter.  Hallowe'en was, obviously, my favorite holiday.  Not so much for the candy, but because I felt that there really was a lowering of the veil between worlds.

As much as I loved the stories, the movies, the quest, I did not believe and I was not interested in believing.  I wanted to know. This took me to cemeteries, libraries, famous haunted locations, historical sites, you name it.  I was an investigator before I knew people called it that.  As a teenager I dove into the papers of Rhine, the books on Psi (Susan Blackmore especially).  I also went through my cryptid & UFO phase.  Somehow feeling if the world was big enough for those things then surely it could fit a few billion ghosts.

I wanted proof.  I wanted quantifiable proof.  I wanted a book to tell me this equation proves this.  And I wanted to see for myself.

I was one of eight children of immigrant parents.  We didn't have a large extended family and I really didn't know my grandparents and aunts & uncles.  In my childhood, I didn't know much death.  When I was about 13 a teenager up the street from us developed a brain tumor and she wasted away, dying at 19 years of age.  I was devastated by this death.  Not so much because I was close to her, I wasn't, but because it was so unfair.  It was so uncalled for.  So unbearable painful for her family and it just didn't make sense to me. 

The truth is, I still feel this way.  Never having experienced the "circle of life" in my own family, each time I am faced with the mortality of a loved one, I find myself incapacitated to some degree. I know, as an adult, that we all must die, I just still can't wrap my head around the "why" of it, because a part of me feels immortal.

This may be why I still do this, why I still seek out the dark corners , the phantom footsteps, the circles of energy.

This is just for me, of course, but it is a way of reconciling the part of me that feels immortal with the part me I know is mortal.

I do think that their are healthier ways of approaching the subject matter, but I also believe this is equally valid.  I do not approach anything as a believer, but as a student, a querant, seeking illumination.  

Not everyone searches for the same reason, but I think we search for the same thing.