I cannot imagine a soul apart from the body. And, I understand the dynamics of soul-attachment are not meant for me to know. But if I, my soul, am to float away up into the heavens upon whatever breeze that blows when I die, I would like to enjoy the ride with the body that I leave behind. There are those, perhaps many, who look forward to that day of detachment from disease, paralysis and fear that inhabits the corporeal. Yet, what is this the Psalmist writes, God keeps alive and restores souls? Does this not change the yearning for moving along after death if maintenance is still required?
Looking through the wall with my x-ray vision I said, "I can see the neighbors." She said, "Maybe they don't want to be your presentation." I turned and looked through her. "I can see your heart and it beats." "Oh," she whispered. "What else can those eyes of yours see?" Dazzled, I said, "Your soul is as old as the universe." She smiled. "Now tell me something I don't know."
(Found Poem in Michel de Montainge’s “Of Solitude” translated by George B. Ives)
Our sickness is of the soul; now the soul can not escape from itself. We have a soul that can be turned to itself; it can be its own company; it has the means of attack and of defence, of giving and of receiving. Let us not fear the becoming dull in this solitude from wearisome inactivity; in lonely places be to yourself a multitude. The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.