Food for the Soul

   By Axiom

Buddha achieved ultimate serentity through meditation and mental discipline

One of the things I've been discussing with a friend recently is the concept of the "soul". Do I have one? Does every living thing have one? What is it? Is it useful, necessary, definable, etc?

The topic came up after she mentioned how she'd watched the sun set over the mountain ranges and the glory of it fed her soul - feeling a little dried up and spat out after a long week, the fifteen minutes she spent watching colour sprawl across the sky renewed her.

The thing is she doesn't believe in souls, or gods, or religion - and she's not too sure on spirituality either. Has a nagging feeling it's a little too closely allied with religion. But after describing the effect the evening had had, she commented that it was times like that that she could almost believe she had one - could almost feel it lurking within her somewhere.

Now I do believe in souls - I see them as intensely personal entities inhabiting the body and at the same time almost indistinguishable from the Divine energy that fills everything. I think the soul kind of morphs out of that energy upon conception, and over the "incubation" period gradually loses its conscious awareness of its own divinity and becomes "human"... or canine or equine or arachnoid. I think for the duration of this lifespan, my soul is unique - but after death it may lose cohesion and remerge with the Divine. Or maybe my imprint will be strong enough that it holds form long enough to inhabit another body and I get to live another life as "me" - albeit probably unaware or my reincarnation.

What I came to conclude was that what I hear as my soul talking, my friend names "inspiration", or the voice of the Muse.

I like the idea of that - that my soul is inspiration that has momentarily alit upon this mortal plane, and, finding itself enfleshed, spends a lifetime trying to speak in words this flesh can hear and comprehend.

Is this why in my moments of greatest artistic creation I cry? Because I hear my soul? Is this why certain melodies, or images, or experiences can bring such ecstacy, such poignant yearning, such bittersweet desire? Because the creative urge they awaken is the language my soul uses to speak to me?

Is that a moment when I see the face of God/dess?

If so, it only occurs during those times I am living "within the moment". This is a very Buddhist philosophy, but there are hints of it in many of the Indo-European faiths. The time we spend focused upon the past or future is not just wasted, but lost forever. The past has happened, and cannot be changed. To dwell on past mistakes or triumphs leaches joy from today. The future is undetermined - it can be planned for, but never completely. There is always the unforeseen circumstance. To worry about how it will unfold is useless once you have done all you can to set it in motion. And it blinds you to the wonders of the now.

Living in the moment is about experiencing life to the utmost - all the joy and sorrow. When we live in the moment we are most receptive to experiencing ecstacy and inspiration. Neither tends to come from reflection upon the past or focus upon the future.

My first recollection of such a moment was when I was two. I stood on a hillside in long grass surrounded by brilliant blue flowers, feeling them under my fingers. A sense of utter joy still fills me when I recall the image.

Of course at the time I had no realisation. I don't think children naturally distinguish between the voice of their soul and their conscious mind. That is a division we adults teach them when we train them to "grow up" - in which process I believe many children become deaf to their spirits. More's the tragedy.

It was a particular night a few years later that taught me to recognise the voice of my soul. Knowing, I can look back at the earlier memories and say, "Yes, that too was one of those times".

This particular night was not a joyous one - my brother died and I felt his death. For years afterwards I had a fear of the night, of the silence. For in that silence we can hear the sound of our own mortality as it pounds, the blood rushing rhythmically through our bodies, loud enough to be heard - it's the noise a shell makes when you hold it to your ear. Gave me nightmares. I finally learnt to sleep in the silent night as an adult, turning off my radio and listening to the sound of the ocean as I stared into the dark.

But back then, as a four year old, the metaphysical nature of it held no allure. What mattered was the sound my brother made as he left - such a quiet whisper, yet it woke me up where I lay in my bed at home, unaware that he had died in the hospital, but knowing he was gone. And for years afterwards I heard that whisper in the dark and could not sleep.

That moment - when I knew - may not seem to be the touch of inspiration. But it was.

Too often we define inspiration as being something that motivates us to act or create, and that evening was not such an event. But inspiration is so much more. It is stimulation of the intellect, the emotions, the soul. It is the growth of intuition and the development of communion with the Divine.

Often the greatest strengths within us reveal themselves in the silent darkness of the night. Such moments can destroy us, or they can create a bridge between the intellect and the soul - and for me, that was indeed the outcome. I did not become deaf to my soul.

Which makes "tending" it a bit easier. I know when spiritually I need cleansing, or am unbalanced, or need to feed my soul. And I know how to do those things. Meditation is a universal panacea of the soul as it meets all needs. Formal meditation is a wonderful tool - one I use a lot. But there is much to be said for unstructured "natural" meditation too. To meditate when instead I could sit and revel in the sunrise and achieve the same outcome seems to be a way of blinding myself - and why do that? That act of observing the sunrise is an unstructured meditation that is very much an exercise in being in the moment, experiencing the present rather than dwelling on the past or wishing for the future. It is also a very grounding act, reminding me that I am a part of this world.

And it is inspirational - it feeds my soul in a way formal meditation does not. The difference between lavender and roses, or chocolate and strawberries, is the difference between formal and unstructured meditation.

How often do you engage in meditation? And when was the last time you watched a sunrise, or sat beneath the stars, or went for a walk looking for ladybugs and butterflies? When was the last time you lived purely within the present moment? If it wasn't today, then isn't it time you did so again?

The only tyrant I will accept in this world is the "still small voice" within me. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

   

The Spiral Path By Rebecca SerVoss Last month I was watching "Law & Order", and McCoy (who is the Assistant District Attourney for those who don't watch the show) was making his closing arguement. I can't recall what the case was, but what he said has stuck with me. "Justice must be tempered with mercy. But it must never lose its sense of retribution or it ceases to be justice." Most Pagans, especially those of the Wiccan variety, follow a set of rules that tell you to stay out of the justice/retribution game and let Karma do its work. While that may be well and good for some, I find it lacks a certain sense of righteousness. Understand, I'm not advocating some Biblical eye-for-an-eye, tit-for-tat scenario. But let's face it, with over 6 billion people living on Planet Earth, Karma has an awful lot to do. And since I hold within more traditional (read Hindu*) view of Karma, it makes sense for me to be involved in the justice of my life. Before anyone gets too upset about my complete disregard for one of the Pagan community's most sacred cows (the law of three) I want a few things made clear. One: I am in no way condoning rash judgement or unwarrented action. Two: I am not advocating CURSING ANYONE. Three: this is an opinion column, not a report. That said, I believe there are cases where non-mundane actions to seek justice are warrented and right. Look at your family: your parents, siblings, spouse, children, and friends, and tell me you wouldn't want terrible things to happen to the person responsible for serious harm coming to them. So, after you've involved the proper authorities it's time to look to your pantheon and the Powers That Be. Go ahead, tap them on the shoulder and make sure they see what happened. Not only will it benefit whatever legal actions are being taken, but the psychological benefit can be quite profound. (Just make sure your own house is in order first, since they tend to deal out justice toward all things, once called on). Often when a crime is perpetrated against us or someone we love we can feel powerless. Masgically or ritually, seeking justice can give us and our loved ones back some of that power. We are no longer helpless, and we should take pleasure in knowing that our actions will effect the perpetrator so long as that feeling doesn't overwhelm us. Justice and retribution are good, even healthy. Vengeance and all-consuming rage are bad. Look at Batman. Bottom line, rituals and spells dealing with retribution and justice should be undertaken with thought and the goal of catharsis and empowerment for those involved. This will give you justice, not revenge. Beca the Hindu religion holds that Karmna balances one's actions in this life against one's gifts in the next. A person moves closer to Nirvana, enlightenment and freedom from reincarnation by zeroing out the scale of good and bad Karma. Hindu Karma has little to do with punishment or reward in this life stemming from this life's actions.

Yoga is a wonderful way to balance the mind, body, and soul, and to move into focus upon the moment of now.

Music designed to assist you in balancing your Chakras and meditating is a wonderful tool.

Music that works upon the brain, influencing alpha wave production, is an incredible way to enhance relaxation and improve meditation.

If you really want to shift your meditations up a notch, Tibetan Buddhist chanting is incredible.

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