A secret: What most people imagine their soul to be is merely their attachment to suffering.
I have had the experience of letting that which I’d believed my own soul to be to leave me. It was a tortured wisp of a thing; it hauled itself from my lungs; I wondered, faintly, at the strangeness of what it was like to die.
Later I found that all that had left me was the remnant fog of suffering; with its escape I discovered my body was my soul.
A secret: When your body is your soul Earth becomes like bliss.
There was a time when I was afraid that letting go of suffering meant letting go of something necessarily human. Instead I discovered that letting go of suffering meant falling into something more. It did not mean giving up empathy, or reverence, or depth. It meant merely to stop being afraid of pain. It meant merely an awakening into love.
I keep writing; I am not sure why.
Perhaps it is just that footprints are inevitable.