Ethereal // Telepathic Rice

A GHOST STORY

The story you're about to read has been handed down in hushed whispers since the beginning of belief. It's not a story about experimental methodologies or peer review standards. It's not about cryptographic wizardry. It's a story about some things that happened, and other things that happened, too. Don't expect to believe this story. Not until these things happen to you.

Once upon a time, there were three containers that were similar in many ways. They were all molded from BPA-free plastic. They were all uniform in size and shape. They had all been inserted with commercial dessert and sent to serve short sentences at distribution centers, whence they progressed to retail vendors. Together with thousands like themselves, they housed within sealed doors on icy shelves. But theses three particular containers had one commonality above the rest: They had all been selected for a very special purpose.

Cleaned and dried, with nothing inside, the containers were filled halfway with rice- one cup of rice, to be precise- then filled the rest of the way with one cup of water. The lids were tightened but not too tight, and they were spaced apart from each other with comparable access to air and light. At this point they all were still the same, still unnamed.

One container was left unnamed in a corner and ignored. The second two were respectively discouraged and adored. Gradually, they would become physically different. A layer of tape and paper gave the rice privacy as it transitioned.

Ingredients

• 3 identical containers filled with equal parts rice and water
• 4 minutes per day for one month

Directions

• say nice things to one of the rice containers for one minute every morning and one minute every night
• say mean things to another rice container for one minute every morning and one minute every night
• ignore the third rice container

I covered the containers in paper so I wouldn't be able to see what the rice was doing in there. I placed the jars all next to each other, but I thought they might seep energy, so I separated them after a few days, keeping them all in the same room.

Traditionally, results are achieved by speaking out loud to the rice, the way one might speak to a plant. I did not speak out loud to the rice. Sometimes my roommate would. He would go into my room to yell at the Hate Rice if he was having a bad day, and sometimes I would call out "I love you!" to the Love Rice if I was trying to put myself in a good mood. But for the most part, I communicated with the rice telepathically. Whenever I caught sight of one of the rice containers, I would take a moment to concentrate on how much I loved or hated it, depending on which one it was. When I caught sight of the Abandoned Rice I would physically turn away and actively think about something else.

My interactions with the rice were concentrated into a minute in the morning and a minute in the evening, for each of the two containers I attended. I would hold the rice in my hands, look at it, and focus completely on things I loved or things I hated. I visualized channeling those emotions through my hands into the container. I focused on specific ideas and thought them as hard as I could.

Holding the Love Rice, I would think things like:

• I love you
• You are so important to me
• I don't know what I would do without you
• Everybody thinks you're hot
• You're the best
• I'm so lucky to have you
• It always makes me happy to see you
• Thank you for being you
• I'll always be here for you

Writing nice things on the outside of the Love Rice container reminded me of positive ideas. As I wrote them on the container, I concentrated on how much I loved that rice. Trying to harness all the love inside myself, I clung to the vague concepts of success, admiration, my sister, my brother, smiles, sunshine.

Writing mean things on the Hate Rice container was even more helpful because it was hard to come up with an endless stream of mean ideas. I tired to think the most hateful things possible. I would think about slurs and insults and hate speech that I don't plan to ever use out loud.

Holding the Hate Rice, I would think things like:

• I hate you
• Get away from me
• This is all your fault
• You're worthless
• I used to be happy before I met you
• The world would be a better place without you
• No one cares what you think
• That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard
• Shut up

Trying to harness all the hate inside myself, I would find myself concentrating on my insecurities, death, violence, hunger, poverty, predation, and he frustrating minutia of my software-heavy underpaid work life.

One minute of thinking impacted my mood. It always took a few minutes to recover. The few times I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror while communicating with my rice, the features were twisted and mangled, either one way or the other. I sometimes let a few days pass without doing it at all. Daily hateful meditations were more than I could handle.

I never spent time concentrating on one rice without spending equal time concentrating on the other. I would take long breaks in between for normal thought processes.

After about five weeks, I opened up the jars.

• The most compelling result was that the inside of the jars smelled terrible which I forgot to expect.
• The Love Rice looked more or less the same as it had a month earlier when I closed the jars. The water level was below the top of the rice. The rice grains were soft and wet.
• The Hate Rice looked like liquid mush. All the rice were completely submerged in starchy water. Not all the grains of rice were distinguishable as individual grains. 
• The Abandonment Rice had dried out. There wasn't any water in the jar. The rice on the bottom was soft and wet and some of the grains at the top were hard and crunchy.

The fun of communicating telepathically with wet rice is that some physical part of it, the water maybe, holds onto the energy, and knows, physically, the difference between negative and positive.

The implication is that the feelings you feel toward another thing impact what that thing is, regardless of the words you speak, when you direct your energy at your child or your self, at the train or the stairs or the doorknob. Warm fuzzy feelings of acceptance and approval are the secret ingredients that make food happy and healthy. Applying ruefully a corrective cream to a rued part of the body will not be as effective as considering your body positively while you apply it. It's magic, which is to say, science.

#rice #witchcraft