January 23rd, 2015
When I think of the Soul, I get lazy and soft, as if I’m in a hammock, sipping scotch, half-reading Harper’s & pleasantly semi-aware of the sounds of distant kids playing soccer in a field – parents rooting them on, a coach’s whistle – or sounds of a nearby sidewalk cafe on a balmy summer afternoon, all ambient-murmury with muted laughter and silverware clinks. In other words, I slip straight to avoidant floppy-head mode; I change the channel to something lulling and daydream inducing.
Then I remind myself: back to work man. Soul.
Right. So: Right now, today, I believe in the Soul. As what? As a spirit counterpart to our existence, an entity not definable in terms of terrestrial physics and our understanding of dimensions, materials, properties, gravity. An alien stuff. An alien stuff that’s elsewhere, in a realm beyond but also co-existent with us. A place as close as possible to us as can be – but impossible to reach or perceive under quotidian circumstances. A stuff that’s tethered to us invisibly, impacted by what we think and do in our Terran existence, such that after our meat vessel dies, soul remains, more or less atrophied or strengthened by our terrestrial decisions, and through some divine logic & mechanism then re-tethered to another Terran (or maybe other planet’s) organism, the nature of the selection of which tether being a function of what state our soul was in at time of our earthly passing, and so on, again and again, infinitum (I don’t believe in a stoppage to this process as desirable or possible — the cycle is the point and there is no release from it, and that, my fronds, is A-OKAY).
So yes, today at least, I do believe in something like what is commonly understood to be “soul” – and something akin to what many religious traditions have understood as reincarnation – but beyond the above loosely-sketched speculation, I can say nothing else about its substance, characteristics, dimensions or process(-es), because I don’t believe it operates subject to laws and measures humans have encountered.
Now where’s my fucking scotch.