Soul-full

A while back, Pint of Stout invited individuals to consider a question, and to share an answer to it. As his question was a neat bull’s-eye for me—something I have thought long and hard, and variously about for decades—I hereby accept his invitation and offer my ramblings to accompany his.

I was a weird kid. I was interested in metaphysical and philosophical issues long before I knew that’s what they were. Somehow, my earliest ruminations on what a soul or spirit is weren’t tainted by the fundamentalist church I was forced to attend for several years—or maybe I saw the question of, “What gives life, and departs upon death?” as being above church-focused religion even back then.

That question remains for me the most crucial element of trying to identify what the soul is. Having witnessed several bovine births over the past few days, and having given birth myself twice, I am no closer to understanding what happens to transform something from parasite (fetus) to organism (baby). But it’s clear, for certain types of animals at least, that something happens in utero that one might call an “ensoulment”—and it is by no means sufficient to guarantee life once cracking through the egg or traversing the birth canal is complete. It took Darlin’ Daughter a bit of time to start breathing once she was born, and for me that short period seemed an eternity of anxious uncertainty.

Does everything that is alive have a soul? I don’t know. I recall some researchers in the 1970s reporting the discovery that plants had “feelings”; they preferred certain kinds of music over others, and liked to be talked to in pleasing ways. If those things are true, do plants have souls? I don’t know.

Right now, my best working definition of a soul is that it’s an emergent phenomenon of a sufficiently advanced life form and life energy. Must something be self-aware to be considered as having a soul? If so, that would appear to leave out a lot of life. Or perhaps our scientific instruments aren’t yet up to the task of identifying and measuring the kind of self-awareness a fly or stalk of corn has. Neither has science successfully identified or quantified that nebulous “life energy” I mentioned. There is obviously some kind of transformation from living being to dead thing that goes beyond the ability to take in and use oxygen and nutrition; what is it and how does it work? If science has answered these questions, it’s the best-kept secret of all time.

Despite having heard a lot of ghost stories in my youth, I never much believed them, even though my idea of what a soul is left room for them to exist. It simply didn’t seem rational to me; if spirits can remain here and manifest themselves in some way(s), why doesn’t everyone have a “supernatural” experience at some point? My mother told me if she could visit me (as well as some friends) after her death, she would. Aside from one night of bone-chilling dreams that involved her years after her death, neither I nor the friends (as far as I know) have had the promised contact. Why not? I don’t know. Maybe the brain cancer that took her from us far too soon left her soul unable to fulfill her promise. Since then, I have had a person whom I consider to be extremely trustworthy and level-headed share a ghost story with me. It has given me pause. In my teens, I had a couple of experiences that I have alternately “explained rationally” or interpreted as spiritual contact. What were they, really? I don’t know, is all I can answer ... something real, or maybe the product of an oversensitive mind.

All this rambled, I do believe in some kind of life energy that may link us in ways we do not yet know. Perhaps our closest recognition of it presently is in the concept of “intuition”, as well as our acknowledgement that we can sometimes (or often, depending upon the individuals and circumstances) feel “vibes” coming off another. I know that when I approach a person with anger, or hurt, or fear in my mind, the reaction is much different than when I do so in an attitude of love and peace. Knowing this, it is still hard for me sometimes to choose the positive-energy approach. I hope to do better at that.

Because the truth is, my soul—the part of each of us that sparks personality, yielding individuals who will not be cowed in their quest to live life on their own terms or individuals who are content with a modicum of comforts—finds this life achingly beautiful, enjoyable, and running by far too fast to suit me. Irrespective of whether or not it’s all there is for that part of me, I want to run through it the kindest, beautifullest, and joyfullest way that I can.