Seeing and Touching.

We’re often reminded that it isn’t our eyes that see things, but our brains. The analogy is made with the camera, in which it’s the recording medium that makes the picture, not the lens. I gather there’s also a respected body of belief which holds that the brain is incapable of seeing things which it truly believes can’t exist. This is often cited as the explanation for the failure of the Caribbean Indians to see Columbus’ ships.

So, if that is the case, could it be that other-dimensional beings – like fairies, for example – do share this world with us but we can’t see them simply because we’re genetically conditioned not to believe in them? And, further, would it be reasonable to suppose that animals can see them? Could that be the reason why my dog took such a profound interest in a seemingly empty space in a wood once?

But there’s another sense that comes into play here: touch. Could this be the reason why I often feel my leg brush against things when there’s apparently nothing there? And why I sometimes feel things touching my hands in the garden at dusk? And why I felt my coat sleeve firmly pulled back one evening when I was nowhere near anything physical to explain it. And last night I felt something like fingers stroking the back of my neck several times.

Or am I just in need of professional help?