The other day, an acquaintance asked, "What is Soul Portrait about?" My response came without a second thought; but years ago when I wrote the first edition of the book, I had a hard time putting the concept into words, knowing most people don't spend their free time talking about soul. We talk about everything else -- our careers, accomplishments, financial status, travels, grand kids, and hobbies. It's all very interesting, but who are we underneath all that? What motivates us and keeps us going? What kinds of things mean the most to us? What has been hard for us, and how have we dealt with it?
Without addressing these questions, we are like a beautiful building that has all its blinds closed; the outward appearance is fascinating and worthy of admiration, but the real treasures are housed within. I don't know about you, but when I'm attracted to a unique structure, typically an older building that has withstood decades of environmental assault and human use, I want to see what's inside.
Your accomplishments and choices tell me something about you; but share what's in your soul and I'll know the answer to the question, "Who are you?" Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, author of Kitchen Table Wisdom wrote, "Sometimes when I ask people to tell me their story they tell me about their achievements, what they have acquired or built over a lifetime. So many of us do not know our own story. A story about who we are, not what we have done."
Soul Portrait helps us share our story and shows us how doing so can enrich our lives. It's all about pulling up the blinds now and then, so our loved ones can get a glimpse of the real person behind the walls.
Some of us are very private and don't want to get personal. My mother was one of those people. Talking about oneself, certainly on a more intimate level, just wasn't appropriate; and asking someone else about such things was invasive. Giving friends and family a glimpse into our inner lives may feel like a sign of weakness to some. Also, there are those who feel self-conscious when they talk about themselves, or think who they are at a deeper level is nobody's business. An 83-year old relative of mine remarked, "Why would anyone care about that kind of information?" My response to her was, "Do you care?" She was speechless, probably because it never entered her mind to reveal more of herself to her family. She is stoic and distant when it comes to feelings and emotions. What you see on her surface is all you get. When she is gone, I wonder if her daughters will lament never having really known their mother. Who she was would tell them a lot about who they are.
What is soul anyway? A preacher beseeches his congregants to "Save your soul!" The student put his heart and soul into his science project. The chef promises to prepare a soul-satisfying meal. A friend counsels us to search our soul for the answer to a tough decision. We want to find our soul mate. We listen to soul music and eat authentic soul food. We call a like-minded friend our soul sister. An artist's work reflects his soul. When someone has attributes that move or inspire us, we say she has soul. Accident reports tell us how many souls were lost. We believe eyes are windows to the soul. If someone is mean or has no consideration for anyone else, we say he lacks soul.
With the exception of the first example, these references speak to a soul that is innately good, one that makes each of us human, with our imperfections, feelings, needs, and vulnerabilities. Soul motivates us to make choices about everything that makes up our life -- travel, music, food, surroundings, clothing, friends, mates, hobbies, careers, and vocations. Soul is our wise center, the part of us that wants harmony, peace of mind, and truth. The best way to save our soul is to acknowledge it and pay attention to what it's telling us.
When I'm not in tune with my soul, it lets me know something is amiss. I can be mildly ill-at-ease or suffering acute psychic pain, depending on the situation. I spent 10 years nurturing my grieving soul after I made a life-decision that tortured it in a way I never could have foreseen. During that time, the only thing I could do to find some peace was to knit. I knit like there was no tomorrow. Stitch after stitch, I breathed life back into my soul. I also ate. I baked muffins until they were coming out my ears. As soon as I pulled the tins out of the oven, I devoured several before they even had a chance to cool. The extra pounds I gained came off when I discovered that a daily walk among tall ponderosa pines also comforted my soul; and it helped even more when on sunny days I could see two snow-peaked mountains in the distance. Pretty soon, I wasn't baking muffins as often as I was walking and meditating on the beauty around me.
Knitting, eating comfort food, walking, and writing became my go-to soul-fillers, part of a prolonged healing process that helped me see myself as a person with good intentions and love in her heart. I held on for dear life to that perspective, and to this day, I find solace in these activities. They are me; they have become an integral part of my soul. These details help my family and friends know me better, understand me more fully, and support me through hard emotional times. When I appreciate others at the same level, we are linked by a soul connection; and for me, soul connections make up the best moments of my life.
My favorite illustration of the soul's power comes from a Glee episode. If you watch this show, you know about the high school student who loved to dance; but his father wanted him to select a more secure career path and choose studies and a school that would reflect that choice. They had several confrontations; finally, the father forbade his son to dance at all. Without dance, the young man was miserable; he was torn between obeying his father and doing what he knew he was born to do. Ultimately, he decided to dance in spite of his father's order. He took the risk of alienating his father, and remained true to himself. His father, after finally attending a performance, saw the manifestation of what the boy had been trying to tell him all along. Dance wasn't just something his son enjoyed doing now and then; dance was his son's soul work. What we see with their reconciliation at the end of the episode was how the father listened to his own soul.
In spite of our protestations and excuses, I believe each of us wants to be known and accepted for who we are at the soul level. Being heard and valued is like having someone look directly into our eyes and say, "You are okay, and I accept you for who you are." And sometimes, maybe more often than not, when we are the listener it's like looking into a mirror. We are uniquely us, but we are also kindred spirits in more ways than we know. Feelings, struggles, and victories are universal; that's why I've always said that everyone we meet is a soul mate.
When a soul is nurtured and able to express itself, the result is three-part harmony. Just like singers whose voices blend as one, what we do and say, how we feel, and what we think are in tune. As we get older, we know what we need in order to tend to our soul, so the harmony is closer and more natural. We may get off-key now and then, but we are experienced enough to know how to get back to that one incredible voice. If someone hears it, all the better for us both.
(c) Sally Z McBain