In today’s monologue, I address the question of the soul. Do souls exist? Do I have a soul? If souls do exist, well, what the hell ARE they?
I believe, if humans do not have souls, then we have something else, or rather, we ARE something else that is similar to a soul. This is founded on the notion of observing thoughts.
One of the most profound things I was told was that I wasn’t my mind. I still think about this. Since I am able to observe my thoughts, watch them occur in my mind, then I am not my thoughts. I cannot be what I can observe. This would create an illogical loop of identity, that I could be anything I can observe. But this premise seems commonly understood. You are the deepest part of you that you can’t see. When you can see no more, there’s an invisible you in a mirror. Probably waving.
If I am not my thoughts, which most might consider the core of my being if they do not believe in the soul, then what am I?
I must be SOMETHING besides a body, for I can construct dreams and engage in them, while knowing this is happening. If I can participate in dreams, then some otherness in me must be the fleeting control center behind my eyes. What I feel and consider is something real, not something in compartments that I experience secondhand that only effects the surface of who I am.
The soul that feels the experiences could be anything. I honestly don’t have the faintest clue what it is. Scarier than nightmares, to think about what you REALLY are and know that, even if the soul can be proven to exist, you will never know what it ACTUALLY is. We will never know what we actually are.
But one can hope. And I believe the soul to be something profound and beautiful, like an aurora that forces our hearts to beat, or fragments of something supernatural, like a ghost split into pieces like snowflakes that wander through our veins.
I have to have a soul, or an otherness. Without it, I find it difficult to separate myself from robots. And then I wonder if we aren’t just some programmed essence in a lab. If we have no souls, maybe all we really amount to is the electrical signals in our brain that match a control center somewhere we’ll never be.
For the sake of belief in myself and others, I have a soul the same as everyone does. With it, I maintain emotional connection with others. Without it, anything I do seems likely to disappear as quickly as I discovered it in the first place. Or perhaps a simpler answer: if I can contemplate the existence of my soul, might this be enough to prove that it’s there?