About the Movement
A quiet rebellion against forgetting
The Ghosts Movement is a path of presence across time.
It invites you to remember what you were never taught to hold, memory, grief, wonder, silence, ancestry, breath.
It is not a religion.
It is not therapy.
It is not a self-help system.
It is a way of seeing.
A way of being.
A way of walking with what is here, and what came before.
What It Holds
The movement is built around three core threads:
Memory, of self, of lineage, of land
Presence, not as performance, but as quiet care
Ritual, small acts that remind us we are alive and connected
It teaches that every moment is a trace.
Every silence is a thread.
Every breath can be a ceremony.
What It Offers
This is not a movement of noise.
There are no big promises.
Only invitations.
You will find:
A Manifesto, poetic, emotional, reflective
A Guidebook, practical, slow, gently structured
Books, poetic companions through past, present, and future
The Path, a future offering of online and in-person gatherings rooted in presence, ritual, and shared memory
A Circle, forming quietly, made of those who feel the pull to walk differently
What It Asks
That you slow down.
That you notice.
That you remember.
That you honour what is beautiful, and what hurts.
You do not need to believe in anything.
You only need to feel that there is more to life than speed and silence.
This is a movement made of moments.
If you’ve ever paused at a doorway and felt something, you’re already part of it.
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About Pedro Malha
Pedro Malha is a writer of poetic nonfiction, ritual philosophy, and speculative presence. He is the founder of The Ghosts Movement, a quiet path for those who feel time differently, who notice echoes in the ordinary, and who believe that memory is more than the past.
Born in the UK to Portuguese parents, Pedro carries a layered sense of identity, rooted in migration, memory, and the quiet in-between spaces where stories echo across generations.
He is the author of the full Ghosts series:
Ghosts of Deep Time — exploring ancestral memory, ancient presence, and the whispers beneath our feet
Ghosts of Living Time — a meditation on ritual, attention, and the haunting of the everyday
Ghosts Beyond Time — a reflection on legacy, future forgetting, and the quiet memory we are already becoming
Each book is accompanied by a 52-week reflective companion, offering a slow rhythm of practice for those seeking to live with memory across a year.
Pedro is also the voice behind The Ghosts Manifesto and The Ghosts Guidebook, which shape the movement’s core philosophy, that presence is not a performance but a return; that light and darkness are not opposites, but companions; and that every moment, even in silence, leaves a trace.
He shares life with his ever-patient wife, a beautifully chaotic family, and three cats who maintain an unnerving connection to page 42 of Ghosts of Deep Time. He writes slowly, edits obsessively, and is still not entirely sure whether “echo” or “resonance” was the better word, but he’ll probably change it again anyway.
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The Movements Origin Story
The Ghosts Movement did not arrive all at once.
It grew quietly, over time.
Through conversations, quiet observations, and a feeling that something vital was being forgotten in the way we live, remember, and let go.
It began with a small project I created years ago, called It Might Never Happen.
I helped people write their autobiographies, not to publish, but to pass on. The books were born from conversation, shaped not by plot, but by presence. They were often created for family, for the next generation. A way to leave something behind in case it never got said out loud. The stories weren’t loud either. They surfaced slowly, in the details, in a teacup, a scar, a forgotten song.
As part of that same work, I often supported people through the process of downsizing, sometimes after the loss of a loved one, or simply a turning point in life. There were always certain objects they couldn’t bear to part with. A 1970s ashtray. A cracked mug. A mix tape with no label. These things had no monetary value, but they were anchors for memory. And if the story could be shared, written down, spoken, or passed on, the object could be released. Meaning made space.
Many people also wished to include Letters of Wishes alongside their wills, notes explaining the story behind an item, who it belonged to, and why it mattered. A broken cassette, if it came with a story, became something precious. A photograph became sacred if it arrived with a sentence. And in that space between memory and inheritance, I began to see it clearly: we weren’t just storing memory, we were transmitting it. And very few people were being shown how.
At the same time, I was moving through my own quiet unraveling. I had explored many paths, practical, spiritual, psychological. All of them offered something useful. But none fully honoured the sacrament of memory. None quite showed how to hold the past and future in the present moment, not as a concept, but as a lived and felt reality.
It was around this time, during a particularly difficult period in my life, that I created a coping mechanism I came to call spin worms.
They were a strange invention, small imagined creatures that arrived when negative or intrusive thoughts tried to take hold. But rather than crush the thought or push it away, these worms would spin it, gently twisting its shape before it could burrow into my mind. They didn’t fight the darkness. They danced with it. They turned fear into presence. They turned pain into something more bearable. Spin worms helped me stay whole.
Over time, I began to spin less.
Spinning is a powerful tool, but it takes energy. I realised that not every thought needed reshaping. Some things could simply pass through. I began to hold both light and dark without rushing to fix either. A quiet kind of acceptance emerged, not surrender, not detachment, but presence. A gentler, more grounded rhythm.
I remember one moment vividly. I was standing on a crowded train. Everyone around me was silent, lost in their screens. But I was suddenly overwhelmed by love, for all of them. Strangers. Each one with a name, a history, a heartbreak. Even the person at the checkout, they enter your life for just a few minutes. But that matters. These are the echoes. This is what I wanted to remember.
The Ghosts Movement emerged from this blend: autobiography, legacy, presence, memory, and a deep love for people’s untold stories.
It is not a religion. Not a therapy. Not a doctrine.
It is a quiet practice of noticing. Of remembering.
Of walking gently across time.
It is for those who have felt meaning in a forgotten place.
For those who carry both light and shadow.
For those who know that what we hold, and what we let go, still echoes.
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Start here if you're unsure where to begin.
What is The Ghosts Movement?
It’s a way of exploring presence, memory, and time. It’s not a religion, not a therapy, and not a trend. It’s a quiet invitation to slow down and remember what matters.
Is this a religion or spiritual belief system?
No. There’s no god, no doctrine, and nothing to believe in. Just a way of noticing.
Do I need to buy anything or join something?
No. You don’t need to buy the books or sign up for anything to begin. Everything you need is already with you, attention, memory, breath.
What do I actually do?
You slow down. You notice. You might read a page, light a candle, sit with a memory. It’s simple, but meaningful.
Is this spiritual woo?
No. It’s poetic, yes. But it’s grounded in everyday life. It doesn’t ask you to believe, just to feel and notice.
What makes this different from mindfulness?
Mindfulness focuses on the now. The Ghosts Movement invites you to notice how the past and present overlap, and how memory can be a guide. It doesn’t replace mindfulness, it sits alongside it, deepening presence by layering it with time, memory, and meaning.
What kind of people follow this?
People who are curious. People who are tired. People who want to feel something more. You don’t have to fit a type.
Why is it called ‘Ghosts’?
Because it’s about what remains, what lingers, what’s remembered, what isn’t quite gone. Not spooky, just present.
What if I feel overwhelmed by grief or darkness?
The Ghosts Movement makes space for sorrow. It doesn’t ask you to fix it, just to be with it. If it’s too much, pause. You can come back later.
Is this therapy?
No. It’s not a substitute for professional help. But it can sit gently alongside healing, as a companion.
What if it brings up emotions I wasn’t expecting?
That’s okay. Go at your own pace. Nothing here is urgent.
Can I talk to someone?
Yes, you can reach out via the site or join the newsletter to stay connected with others on the path.
Are there rituals I can do?
Yes. Rituals here are simple acts of presence, a candle, a stone, a breath. They’re about noticing, not performing.
Do I need tools or objects?
No. You can use whatever feels meaningful to you. Nothing is required.
Is there a daily or weekly structure?
Each book has 52 weekly reflections companion you can follow. Or you can simply return whenever you feel called.
What are the books about?
Each one explores time and memory from a different angle:
Ghosts of Deep Time - ancient memory in the ground
Ghosts of Living Time - presence in everyday life
Ghosts Beyond Time - what we carry into the future
They’re poetic, reflective, and meant to be read slowly, not all at once.
Can I dip in and out?
Yes. You can read in any order, pause often, and come back whenever you like.
What are the 52 weekly reflections?
They’re gentle prompts that accompany each book, one per week. A way to stay connected with memory and presence all year.
Can I do this with friends or a group?
Absolutely. You can read together, share reflections, or simply talk about what memories are showing up.
Are there events or gatherings?
Yes. There are occasional in-person and online events. You can also register interest for upcoming experiences.
Is there a community space?
Not yet, but it’s coming. For now, the best way to stay connected is through the newsletter or contact page.
Is there a lot to do?
No. You can begin with one sentence. One breath. There’s no pressure to finish anything.
Do I need to commit to a schedule?
No. This isn’t a course or program. It’s a rhythm, not a routine.
What’s the easiest way to start?
Try reading the Manifesto or Guidebook page. Or choose one weekly reflection from the books. That’s enough.
How is this different from meditation or journaling?
The Ghosts Movement brings time, memory, and presence together. It helps you see how what’s behind you still shapes what’s here, and how that matters.
Will this deepen my current practice?
It might. If you’re already reflective, this gives new language and emotional depth to your noticing.
Are there prompts or questions I can use?
Yes. Each weekly reflection offers a gentle focus, and the books themselves are full of questions, both quiet and stirring.