The word ‘soul’ is variable; we use it to point toward something ineffable.

Yet intimately familiar.

I don’t know what a soul is, but without it I cannot know. It is that which, from beyond myself… imposes the possibility of coherence to my awareness… or is, at least, involved in this.

But I do not think of it as a thing. I don’t possess it (though I think this way, because our language implies this). Rather, I am an expression of it. I do not encompass it, it encompasses me.

Yet more still I dare to imagine. That it is not merely a being, but a »web of beings, a constellation whose central star is as mysterious as it is compelling. A layered intricacy of relationships, consonance… and polarization.

In which many other beings and constellations… past, present.. and future… participate. Together. With and for each other… and … against, as well…

But none of this is what I think. Without my soul, there’s no coherence… no mind to think, no way to do so. It’s something older than thinking. It’s transvisceral.