Guess I need a soulful language.

I’m supposed to be in motion. To move about. Physically. That’s why my soul was encased in my body. I suppose that could make my soul feel as if it’s imprisoned. But it really ain’t. My soul can leave my body. It can choose to roam. Just like my imagination. Makes me wonder if I’m more soul than body. More imagination than anything. I’m trying to figure it all out. At times, I’m surprised that I even exist. And maybe I don’t. Maybe that’s why I have a body. It’s tangible. I can see most of my body. I put my hand in front of my face. And look. I count five fingers on a hand. But there was a Chicago Cubs pitcher a few years ago that had six fingers. Gave him a better grip on the baseball. But I digress. That happens to me often. I go off on tangents. Because I’m curious. But ultimately I get back to my original thought. About having a body that wants to be in motion. I’m addicted to exercise. To motion. Makes me think that I’m a machine. With moving parts. If I were only a bodiless soul, I wonder what that would feel like. I suppose I’d be spirit. Just a thought floating out in space. Maybe into a void. I wonder if I’d even be occupying space. I wonder if my spirit would have eyes and ears and a mouth. A big mouth, like I have now. And would I be able to communicate with other spirits? Well, I’m answering my own question. I do talk to other spirits. Even to god himself. And it feels kind of peculiar. God seems to have eyes and ears and a mouth. But darned if I can describe it all in physical terms. Guess I need a soulful language. –Jim Broede