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What is the soul? Does it belong to a person? Is it claimed by a body?
Could we call it invisible and unmeasurable energy? How about depth beneath the surface of meaning and intention behind one’s eyes? How about the spirit or essence of a being that perhaps meets you where you are and holds, or rather is, the space for you in light of truth, in love of life.
What if depths are shallow and meaning is obsolete? Does a soul exist then?
Are we to be responsible for a soul to begin with? Is it our duty to confess in clearance of conscience?
Does a dark soul exist, and if so, what good will confession do then?
Soul to me sounds singular: personification of a greater spirit; an energetic phenomenon that is present and moving – being – all around that when we identify with, we contain within a vessel such as a body of a person or an animal or even a place for sake of conceptualization. To speak of a soul is a bound and limited perception of something otherwise inconceivable. It is to hold in ones mind an idea of infinity; to relate to time, eternity.
Confession? I don’t believe has much effect on the soul itself, but can perhaps do good for the vessel, for the body, for the ego bridge connecting conscious mind and body to the life force of spirit. Confession might be seen as a light shining on truth which was once hidden; truth to be the heart of soul. Confession would then be a mode of revealing soul, allowing an open channel of spirit flow and human expression, rather than helping or healing that which is already perfect.
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