I’ve recently started watching The X-Files, because I was too chicken shit to watch it when I was a kid. It’s every kind of awesome. I feel that I relate more to Scully than Mulder, but that’s because I’m exceedingly practical, almost to a fault.

I love reading about ghostly encounters, and visiting Port Arthur was easily the highlight of the year that I turned thirteen, but I remain sceptical about the concept of an after life. I say this now, even after I have had, what I believe to be a spiritual encounter.

I actually forgot all about this incident until I was driving home from my play rehearsal last night, and a special song came on the radio. ‘Only the Good Die Young‘ by Billy Joel. It’s special because it was the theme song to the last play that I was in, that was directed by my high school drama teacher. He was a fantastic teacher. He introduced me to theatre and my life was never the same again. It’s ten years later, and I still think about him every time I’m about to walk on stage. He was extremely talented and very generous with his knowledge. I was lucky to have had him in my life.

When I finished school, we remained in contact. He moved interstate, so we exchanged emails regularly. He fell ill four years ago and shortly after that, he died. I received a phone call on a Wednesday night, saying that he had passed and that the funeral would be held the next day, in the town where he lived. Over 1000 kilometres away. I was rehearsing for a play at the time and opening night was the next night. There was no way I could attend the funeral. Naturally I was quite upset about this, but being the practical person that I am, I gave myself a grieving deadline. I received the phone call at 6.30pm on Wednesday. I gave myself 24 hours to be sad about my friend and then all my energy was to go into the performance of my play. He would have wanted it that way.

The next evening, my mother was driving me to opening night of the play and she asked me how I was feeling. I looked at my watch. It was 6.25pm, Thursday night. I told my mother that I had five more minutes to be sad about it. I then said that I hoped my friend was okay with me not going to the funeral. That was when his song started playing on the radio. I turned it up, and cried until I got to the theatre. When I stepped out of the car, I wasn’t sad anymore. I haven’t cried about him since.

I know that many of you will say that this was a coincidence, but my mother was in the car with me and there was a definite change in the air. I often hear that song and I always think of him when I do but on that night, I swear he was playing that song for me. Just that once.

Have you ever had a ghostly encounter? Or a spiritual moment?

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