Setting: A cozy coffee shop in Toronto on a chilly Saturday afternoon. Snowflakes drift past the window as two long-time friends, Raj and Alex, sit across from each other with mugs of hot chocolate and a shared plate of butter tarts.
Raj: (suddenly sneezes loudly)
Alex: Bless you!
Raj: nods seriously Thank you. You may have just saved my soul.
Alex: (laughs) I mean, I was going to say “gesundheit,” but I figured you’d prefer the spiritual safety net.
Raj: Hey, don’t joke about it! You know I actually believe that. For all we know, my soul was halfway to the astral plane before you roped it back in.
Alex: (smirking) So, you’re telling me your soul is like a helium balloon tied to a sneeze?
Raj: Exactly! Think about it—sneezing is this sudden, powerful burst. It feels like something is being expelled, right? What if that something is more than just mucus?
Alex: Raj, c’mon. You know there’s a biological explanation for sneezing. It’s your body’s way of ejecting irritants—dust, pollen, pepper, whatever—from your nose. Not your soul doing an escape act.
Raj: Sure, science explains how we sneeze. But not why so many cultures have a version of saying “bless you” afterward. Ever thought about that?
Alex: I have, actually. The whole “bless you” thing started in Europe during the plague. Pope Gregory I encouraged people to say it as a form of prayer because sneezing was seen as a sign you were about to die. It wasn’t about souls—it was about impending doom.
Raj: Well that’s cheery. But I think older traditions, way before that, believed the soul could slip out when the body was vulnerable. Like sneezing, yawning, or even sleeping.
Alex: And I think that made sense back then—when people didn’t know what germs were. But now we’ve got microscopes, Raj. Germ theory. Immunology. No one’s soul is playing peekaboo through their nostrils.
Raj: Easy for you to say, Mr. Rational. But remember that time we were on that canoe trip and I sneezed like six times in a row and you didn’t say bless you? That night, I had the weirdest dreams. I’m telling you, I felt… off.
Alex: You also drank like four cups of lake water without boiling it. Maybe it was giardia, not a ghost of your soul roaming around Algonquin Park.
Raj: laughs Okay, fair, but it felt like something spiritual. You can’t deny that some things we feel can’t be measured in a lab.
Alex: Totally. Emotions, intuition, beauty—those are real even if we can’t stick them under a microscope. But that’s different from claiming an invisible soul gets launched every time someone sneezes.
Raj: What if it’s not about the soul actually leaving but just… shifting? Like your body gets knocked out of sync, and the blessing rebalances your vibes. Ever think of that?
Alex: So now it’s not soul escape, it’s soul calibration?
Raj: Exactly! Like a spiritual chiropractic adjustment.
Alex: Alright, now that sounds like a business idea. “Raj’s Soul Spa—Realign your vibes with every sneeze.”
Raj: Don’t tempt me, buddy. I bet I could make a killing in downtown Vancouver.
Alex: No doubt. But seriously, doesn’t it bother you to base your reactions on something that isn’t backed by evidence?
Raj: Not really. I think traditions have value even if they aren’t scientific. They’re about connection—someone blessing you shows they care. It’s comforting.
Alex: That I can agree with. I just wish we didn’t need soul metaphors to justify kindness. I’ll bless you every time—just don’t expect me to wear garlic or hang mirrors to ward off spirits too.
Raj: Deal. But if you sneeze and I don’t bless you, and you wake up floating near the ceiling one night… don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Alex: If that happens, I’ll buy you a lifetime supply of sage sticks. Until then, I’m sticking with science and Sudafed.
Raj: raises his mug To sneeze debates, soul insurance, and butter tarts.
Alex: clinks mugs Amen to that. Bless us both.
[They both laugh, as the snow keeps falling and their argument melts into another story.]
Science Vs Superstition 
Tell Us What You Think