Yesterday I took a shortcut while walking home and ended up crossing through a small graveyard in the back of a city church. I stopped and I looked at the names and the dates and the veterans and the three-year-olds and loving wives and fathers and sisters and husbands the immortalized bits of what their lives were summed up to be and I thought to myself,
Why would a soul want a body?
What can a body do that a soul can’t? Why would it want an impermanent, gross, heavy, hurting thing?
I was standing in front of a husband and wife that died in the late 1800s. I looked at their final resting places, a few inches away from one another, and realized,
A soul can’t touch.
Assuming the idea that a soul is an energy field, that our spirits do indeed exceed the speck of life our bodies provide…
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