I was made to be inside
and free from it, too.
Souls are big.
What do you imagine when I say big? A soul is bigger than that.
Poets speak of mansions; mystics speak of infinite space between the lines of a good poem. I’m saying: it’s not that, either. A soul can house a planet. And the giant star round which it orbits. The spiraling tendrils of an entire galaxy, tacky with enormous stars, nebulas and comets zooming through: a single soul can hold that, too.
It’s misleading for me to hand you adjectives for size and shape, but we have to start somewhere. To go beyond everything you’ve ever known, we have to take a step in language, where you feel easy and confident and trusting.
I’ve seen you measured in your body; inches and feet on one continent, centimeters on another. Oceans of emotion lapping within shores of ego, persona, dreams, identities, desires, strands of DNA, skin — eyes that open and close. The soul, bigger than your biggest guess, can funnel into that and drive a single cell with as much love and passion as it drives the entire universe.
And here, still, I’m misleading you.
[more to come – like a beat, the book goes on…]