This is a tricky question because the soul is intangible, mysterious and hard to grasp, yet we recognize when our soul is awakened. Our world lights up, transporting us to another dimension. My soul is stirred when I listen to Aretha Franklin sing, cuddle a newborn baby, watch a sun rise, purchase fresh flowers, or find myself crying because I’ve been so moved that words escape me.
In his book, Falling Upward, the author Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest, believes that the primary task for our later years is to tend to the soul. He doesn’t regard old age as one of stagnation but one of soul work, which he calls, “the sacred dance.”
The sacred dance is one where we plunge into our deeper self to discern what values we hold dear, using this as a blueprint to move into soul work and to live out our lives in a meaningful manner. If we’re lucky our soul work will usher in that sought-after state known as “peace of mind.”
I imagine the sacred dance as de-cluttering my life of negatives, comparable to the approach advocated by Marie Kondo in her best seller, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, where she recommends sorting through one’s belongings and discarding anything that doesn’t bring you joy. Kondo believes that when we limit our surroundings to possessions that spark joy we will have a happier life.
Applying the Kondo analogy, I have tried to sever contact with negative people who clearly are not joy carriers. When it comes to family I can’t readily disconnect from grumbling relatives, but I can set limits, letting them know I can’t accept their anger and walking away if necessary.
It’s not always easy to recognize how I cramp my soul.
Here’s where journaling, a spiritual practice and good friends make a difference. Journaling often clarifies why I’ve overreacted to someone or why I’m feeling sad. A spiritual practice reminds me to meditate when I’m anxious, and to practice kindness and gratitude to foster positive connections. Good friends don’t let me get away with excuses for holding myself back and they’re there for me when hard times hit. I try to reciprocate in kind.
Curious as to how others connect with their souls, I asked several friends to describe the soulful moments in their lives. Here’s what they said:
“Walking on the beach early in the morning; working in the garden; a cup of tea on a cold afternoon; listening to Bach; visiting an art museum; laughing with close friends; wearing my mother’s pearl necklace, making a roast chicken; reading Rumi; working for a better world.”
I asked the same friends how often they had these soulful experiences. Without exception, they all said, “Not enough.” Why is it if we know what makes our souls sing, we don’t try harder to bring these experiences to the forefront of our lives?
One way I practice soul maintenance is to surround myself with inspiring passages. These words by Mary Oliver are pinned on the bulletin board next to my desk. When I read them my soul comes alive:
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
.