It is believed that ghosts exist, and continue to haunt the physical world, because of a situation that they were unable to resolve as humans.  Perhaps, it was something that was done to them, or something they did to others, but it is this unfinished business that prevents them from ever resting in peace. 

The group of ghosts at the Gathering, consider themselves to be in recovery, and have a program and steps they follow in an attempt to make their amends and finally break free from the past.  When I discovered that there were other ghosts out there, and that I’d been one for most, if not all, of my life, everything made total sense.  I was willing to do anything to alleviate the all-consuming anxiety at that point, so I got a guide and began following his recommendations.

I didn’t have much experience living as a human, so that took some getting used to.  I began by making my bed every morning and eventually got to the point where I was paying weekly visits to the grocery store, even returning the shopping cart to the designated collection spot afterwards.  Mind you, this was happening during the pandemic, so what was normal wasn’t all that normal.  The next step would be to get a job, but I couldn’t risk exposing my mother to the virus so that would have to wait.

On some days it felt like I was making progress, but just as often I felt trapped and longed to have my old freedom back.  On the second morning of the contest, I was up at sunrise and went to 7-eleven for a coffee.  There were two poltergeists sitting out front, different from the morning before, one in a pirate hat, the other with feet so swollen it seemed unbelievable that he was able to slip a pair of flip-flops over them.  They were noisily arguing and didn’t look over when I passed.

Poltergeists are part of the same family, but unlike the ghosts at the Gathering, who all have been poltergeists at one point or another, are either unaware that they are ghosts or don’t care.  In Asia they are known as hungry ghosts and are often depicted as having enormous stomachs and only thin, needle-like throats, so they can never get enough.  They can be actively disruptive and even aggressive when they’re not getting what they need.  They shout, swear, scream, bang garbage cans, and frighten tourists, giving us all a bad reputation in the process.  They are not evil as much as driven mad by pain.

It was these worlds I now found myself trapped between, in a purgatory that seemed to have no end in sight.  I was neither fully human, nor was I the same unabashed hell-raiser I once reveled in being.  If I thought about the past I was consumed by regret.  If I started worrying about the future, I would be overcome by terror.  Everyone had advised me to stay in the moment.  It wasn’t easy, but at least I had the surf contest to distract me from my problems for another week.   After that, I’d just do what I had to do.