When we’re young, the world is filled with thrilling mysteries and untold wonders, and we dive headfirst into the unknown. But as we age, something shifts. Suddenly, the familiar feels safe, and anything out of the ordinary seems downright terrifying. Funny how that works, right?
Take me, for example. I had this ambitious goal of visiting 33 countries before I turned 33. Now, with just six months left and three countries to go, I’ve realized it’s not a lack of money or time that’s holding me back. Nope—it’s fear. Somewhere along the way, I traded my adventurous spirit for the cozy comfort of predictability. After a series of chaotic or unpredictable experiences, it’s easy to crave the certainty of knowing exactly what’s ahead. I’ve even found myself avoiding new books, movies and TV shows, hesitant to dive into the emotional rollercoaster of not knowing what’s coming next. When did I become so cautious? I mean, seriously, I’d rather risk becoming a midnight snack for a known deep-sea predator like a shark than take a dip in Lake Lochmond, because…what if the mythical Loch Ness monster gets me?!
But recently, I decided I didn’t like the person I was becoming—the overly cautious, play-it-safe version of myself. I used to be the kind of person who did crazy, borderline reckless things, like trying snake meat in Indonesia while chasing it down with vodka mixed with its blood. Extreme? Impulsive? Sure. But at least I was living. So, in the spirit of Halloween and reclaiming that streak of madness, I decided to face the unknown in the most dramatic way possible: attending a Victorian séance.
A séance, for the uninitiated, is like stepping into a whispered conversation with the afterlife—cryptic, unsettling, and impossible to ignore. This one took place at Stanley Barracks in Toronto, a building steeped in enough eerie history to send shivers down your spine. The strange part? It’s right in the heart of the city, next to a gleaming 5-star hotel. Haunted places are usually tucked away in remote locations, where desolate roads, overgrown trees, and creaky gates set the stage for whatever horrors lie within. It’s as if the ghosts have settled into the city itself, refusing to be forgotten.
Stanley Barracks is a notorious hotspot for paranormal activity, uncovered in a 13-month investigation by expert Richard Palmisano. Among the spirits he discovered is Jenny, a young girl tragically killed in a scarf accident, still searching for her lost cat. Then there’s a ghostly clown, communicating with bells and maracas, believed to have once performed at the nearby Canadian National Exhibition. The barracks, which also served as a dumping ground/hospital during a typhoid outbreak, is a graveyard for restless souls. This eerie site blends history, heartbreak, and unsettling hauntings.
So, did anything unusual happen? Oh, absolutely. I saw things, heard things—things I can’t fully explain. But here’s the kicker: once I faced it, the unknown wasn’t nearly as scary as I’d built it up to be. Turns out, fear thrives on our imagination. The ghosts were unsettling, sure, but they also reminded me of something profound: the unknown only has power over us because we let it. Once we face it, it becomes… well, just a little less scary in the case of this séance. It definitely helped me bring back the brave me that I had let go during the ‘To be > Not to be > To be’ process (see previous post, more on this in the next one).
This experience also made me realize that the unknown is only scary because it’s unfamiliar—what’s on the other side doesn’t really matter. It could be something truly frightening, like a séance with actual ghosts, or something completely harmless. Either way, if it’s new, it feels unsettling. The fear comes from not knowing, not necessarily from the thing itself. Even a positive unknown can trigger a “WTF, WHY?” simply because it’s outside your frame of reference. And when fear takes over, it’s tempting to avoid it, no matter how irrational that avoidance might be.
So, here’s to being brave. To stepping into the unknown not because we’re fearless, but because staying stuck in the comforting familiar might be even worse. Maybe one day, even the ghosts of Stanley Barracks will take this advice and move on. Until then, I’ll try practising what I preach—snake blood vodka shot optional.
fortuitouspurpose 