soul travel

As I drop down to my knees, my dreams rise above me, attempting to force-lift my captured spirit- carefully, letting not my throat graze against the shame-coated dagger of that dreaded, dreadful enemy- Surrender.

At that moment, when my spirit is mid-flight, my searching Soul looks within, into a miasma of past presents, presentable futures and futuristic pastiches. In this diaphanous vapor, quasi-illustrations of my life play out. They coil and recoil, fading down a path paved by a multitude of grand decisions- wise and unwise.

Past the haze of memory and yearning, Soul spots a great pool. One side of this strange lagoon is a bright turquoise blue, and is helmed by the mighty Foolish Hope, who has captured the Spring Sky to be his warrior in waiting. The other side, manned by a muscular Foolish Confidence, is a brilliant yellow, dyed no doubt by the essence of Sun- his trusted servant. The two liquid camps thrash and crash into each other, fighting as they always do. Foolish Hope has the unending sky on his side, but is crippled by the inane knowledge that sky is limit. Foolish Confidence, invigorated by the golden potion brewed by his magnificent servant, shuts his eyes and languorously splays his fingers across the expanse, marking his territory. And then, quite suddenly, he feels something sharp grip his fingertips, and realizes he has not been edging into Foolish Hope’s territory, but, in fact into the hellish, fire-ridden colony ruled by Cruel Reality.

Evaporated thus, by contact and association, the great dry basin now reveals a mass of soft, yielding sand. In it, Beautiful Temptation and Beautiful Deceit have formed a handsome tag team, and are flexing their chiseled muscles and issuing forth buttery smiles, seducing Soul to lie down, take a nap. My tired life essence is only too happy to oblige. But, the moment she touches the talcum totality of the expanse, she is sucked in by a powerful quicksand of Inner Turmoil. When she tries to lunge upwards, her conniving captors only wrap their sinewy arms tighter around her, taking her down.

Soul is convinced she is dead.

However, after a few seconds of sandy suction, she lands with a thud in a kingdom that has plastered all over its walls the rage-filled visage of Emperor Big Trouble. Into a tick-filled prison Soul is thrown, surrounded by Greater Wrongs, White Lies and Not Guilty. Things look up momentarily when the echoes of redemption breathe words of encouragement through the grimy walls. One night, with her three companions, Soul plans a great escape from the dungeon. They use a hammer called Resolve to beat away at the wall. Only the heavens bear witness to how they manage the feat. But they do.

Yet, Lady Freedom proves slinky and unwilling to be won over by mere criminals, one of them who now wields the hammer of Resolve, like a Thor in training.

After days spent in a dangerous forest called Terrible Confusion, they wander, quite by accident, into a peculiar employment agency. To Soul’s surprise, the pristine candidates, dressed in their Monday best, are waiting to be picked by none other than Soul herself. In line, looking eager and smart are virtues like Inner Beauty, Goodwill, Intelligence, Honestly, Temperance and Kindness. They vie. Soul weighs. But, without the employ of Clear Thinking, things are getting nowhere. ‘I want you all!’ Soul cries in anguish, Resolve starting to weigh rather heavily upon her shoulders.

‘Then, you’ll just have to choose me,’ replies the calm voice of Inner God.