Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Would you sell your soul for a month?
A month of perfect health, guaranteed. A month of delirious happiness. A month of pure, undiluted true love. How about all of the above? Just what is your soul worth? I haven’t figured out what mine is worth, yet. But with all that has gone on in the past year, it’s something that I have started giving some thought to. It’s not as easy a decision as you might think. I look at people that I am convinced have no soul, and I see that it does seem to have its pros and cons. While not much seems to bother them, and they generally look fairly happy, I wonder about the total deadness of it all. Would a month of perfection in every way be worth giving up being able to feel imperfection? On the plus side, there would be no more pain. And hey, I gotta tell you, I am all for that. But there would also be no good feelings either. And then, wrap your mind around this…IF you decided to trade your soul for a month, a year, 50 years of perfection, could you really be truly happy knowing that you were under a deadline, and that perfection would come to an end?? Kinda defeats the purpose of perfect happiness and harmony, if you ask me.
Gah! I just read that last paragraph, and all I could think was “Oh crap! Look at the small town shop keeper getting all existential!” I swear I don’t mean for it to sound that heavy. But my mind can conjure the oddest things to mull over when I am trying to avoid thinking about something else. My cowardly lion side would rather think about this crap than what’s really bothering me today. Sheesh, how sad is that??
Ok, basically it’s all about goodbyes. Some are harder than others. Some goodbyes are no more difficult that saying the words, and some goodbyes tear at your heart (and soul) like rusted razors and dull barbed wire. Some goodbyes are full of words, and sometimes, there just are no words that could possibly cover it. Goodbyes, as a rule, suck bloated toad feet. Today, I said goodbye to someone. And it hurt in ways I could quite happily live without for the rest of my life. In fact, I’d rather suck bloated toad feet. But there comes a time when dreams do die, however harshly. And then goodbyes give some closure, a least. So I said goodbye, the best way I knew how. And then I started contemplating my soul.
Birds are chirping madly away outside, traffic flies along the road, my daughter is sitting peacefully, reading a book, a half smile on her face at the twists and turns of the plot. The neighbor’s kids are laughing and playing outside, while their dad jams to something on the car stereo that has a solid Cuban sound to it. Less bass, please. Really. The dog, missing his favorite tennis ball, keeps dropping a rubber chicken in my lap to play with. And barking at the neighborhood feral felines. Pretty annoying. The sun is coming in the window, too warm on my skin, reminding me that it will only get hotter. All of these feelings hit me at the same time. And with them, clarity.
I don’t know what my soul is worth. To you, at least. But I know what it is worth to me. And I think I will be keeping my soul, thank you very much. Because I can feel. Everything. Good, bad, ugly, indifferent. I am here, and I can feel. I wonder how many others can say the same?
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