Spiritual Gumbo

I can't really express how I feel right now but if I were to sum it up into one word, I guess I would say that I don't feel grounded. I know that I am sitting at work, with my right elbow firmly pressed into the table but I don't feel fully aware. As I'm typing this, it almost feels like I'm looking through a shell. My soul, which is my true self, feels so tangible inside my body. It has density. I'm familiar with my surroundings but I do not want to be here because I feel vulnerable. I feel as if my soul has 'shrunk' inside my body,occupying less space than before. It no longer feels like a perfect mold--instead I feel spaces in between; the small gaps between the lining of my soul and body. So when I picture it this way, it makes sense to me why my perspective has change; why I feel like I'm walking around with a blanket covering everything but my face and everything, even this monitor that I'm looking at has a dark but subtle halo around it.

I don't know which part of me is speaking. I'm speaking of the soul like its a separate thing but the mind=soul right? The more and more  I think and reflect on myself, I don't think its the same thing. I believe that the soul is an individual spirit that fills our body and works inseparably with the mind. Without uttering a single sentence, the mind is verbal and loud within our bodies but the soul does not speak in the same sentences. Instead, it gives us feeling, instinct and passion. When it comes to love, you could survey a million people and get a different answer every time. What is love? How could you describe love? Is it a feeling? Is it a state of mind? Is it an emotion? Without trying to be cliche, I've asked myself many times, what is love? and I've really tried to think of a physical description but no matter how hard I try, I can't stop myself from describing actions or feelings associated with being in love ( happiness, undivided attention, anxiety etc...). The thing is, love is part of the soul; That's how the soul communicates. Passion, instinct, love, faith--everything that we feel but can't scientifically describe is how our soul beats and speaks to us. When I'm traveling somewhere unfamiliar, I often go in the wrong direction. I'm usually stubborn  and let my instincts lead me in the wrong direction but even when I'm totally off, I like to think that in someways, I might be going in the 'right direction'. I mean why else would my instincts tell me to go there? Whether it's danger or pleasure, I think my soul yearns for balance and whatever gravitational pull that brings me there is the countering balance that it yearns for.

Maybe I was a tree in my past life. I dunno but when I look at the sunrise, the tides slowly coming in , the mountains sun bathing by the lake or a giant field filled with bright green grass, I feel something vibrating within me, inside my chest-- where my core/soul resides,somewhere between my rib cages.

Thankfully I have this blog because it's really hard trying to talk to someone about this. I think that most people don't like talking about their spirituality because they haven't truly defined what the 'spirit' actually means to them. In this day and age, religion is such a touchy subject and frankly it makes people uncomfortable. Besides differences in faith and corruption found in some religions, I think most people are incapable of expressing themselves freely-- beyond the conventional spectrum of emotions. We express ourselves, myself included, in ways that has been taught to us. Ladies and gentleman, that's why we need poetry in this world. Call it what you will, whether it's in art, literature or in speech, poetry is a free, natural and genuine form of expression. How many times can you say that you're sad to someone? How could you say that my way of feeling sad is the same as someone else's?  The reality is, you can't.

I think we 'd have better sense of who we are if poetry was less of an art and more of a language. We wouldn't strive to be original and mutually understand that even though we are each individual and distinct, like the fingers in a fist, we are inevitability, inseparable to a much bigger whole. That being said, I need to get back to work.