My soul is looking for a place to live.
It doesn’t always feel at home in this body; this body that cannot be controlled and will not obey. My soul is looking for a new place to live.
Inanimate objects work for soul-housing. They stay where you put them (well, unless you have kids) and you can choose what they look like. We do purchase all kinds of things that represent – in the tangible world – how we would like our inner worlds to be known.
I really liked the bowl I had bought to represent my soul. It was a soft, weathered teal. The color of the sky on a mild day above tropical waters. The circle of the rim was 16″ in diameter, felt cool and smooth, and, while not perfectly formed, the small imperfections were just the right size to give character without looking defective. I got it at Target years ago so it wasn’t too expensive – thus, I felt smart and frugal when I looked at it. In it, I would put items I wanted to admire: leaves, Christmas ornaments, a well-wrapped present due for a party. But the bowl itself was soothing just on its own. My soul enjoyed projecting onto that lovely bowl to rest from the chaos of life.
That bowl died today.
A large rolling backpack, too stuffed full of books to think straight, fell over and knocked my bowl onto the cold, hard tile.
And I can’t find anything else to project myself onto that feels as relaxing and complete. My soul wants a place to be that is outside this body. This body is under renovation and it is difficult to live here all the time. It’s nice to find a cool, beautiful place to rest when this becomes too much.
The body has a lot of work to do. The bowl could just sit, maybe hold something, maybe not, and just be. It was worthwhile and beautiful while doing nothing but existing.
When I heard the bowl break it was almost like hearing a ship’s anchor going up. “Your boat has sailed. You’re stuck on your island.”
I think this is why I like Pinterest and Instagram. The pictures provide temporary fantastical escapes from regular life. And I do put myself into those boards I create. My soul lives there too.
But they are not tangible.
Have you ever had a strong reaction to the death of an inanimate object?
Do you decorate your house as an expression of your soul?
Do you dress as an expression of your soul?
Do you paint or write as an expression of your soul?
Do you use social media as an expression of your soul?
But if I am not careful, I will forget to return to the one place I am meant to live – my body. I will spend so much time making and seeking places in which my soul can feel good, that I will neglect my body.
I am taking the broken bowl as an opportunity to fully inhabit my body today. To love and admire it as much as a beautifully-made scultpure or perfectly curated Pinterest board.
This is me taking action to love myself: I worked out. I am choosing to admire my hands as if they are a beautifully-made sculture. I am asking my soul to fill my body to the brim. I am a body full of soul.