I believe, tentatively, that my soul arose originally from the Ocean of Consciousness. (Was I not born conscious?) I say ‘tentatively’ because all my beliefs are tentative; I am in no position to know about such matters. Being tentative does not equate to being uncertain. It is not like holding on to the horns of a vibrant bull as it carries me onward, while wondering whether I am really holding on to its tail.
I have read that my soul resides in a walnut-sized space within my heart. This seems credible in the light of reliable reports about some heart-transplanted persons. The reports were of significant changes in their personality, including likes and dislikes, tastes, interests; and, surprisingly, the subtle impact of some vague foreign memories!
Where then is the Creator claimed to be within me to be found? Good question. It is, after all, a big shift in perspective, from believing a God of substance to be up there, or out there, to contemplating an ethereal God within me – and everybody else (while out there too).
It would seem that our Creator, an essence, occupies all space, and all things created. That is, my Creator should be found within me ephemerally infusing my existence. Is it the Creator then which provides me and my fellow-humans with the energy to live?
In the light of the pettiness, greed, and evil manifested by humans at all levels of responsibility, it is very difficult to accept that we are co-created, and that we all share a Creator. Yet, such a belief offers hope for the future of mankind.
This ethereal essence, perhaps a flux of vital energy, or Consciousness – totally pervasive in all existence (and non-existence?) – may be waiting for us to become mature; that is, to grow up.
In the meanwhile, as I await to hear the soft beat of the wings sent to take me to my next abode (for rest and refreshment), is it for the Creator within me to say ‘Time to go’? The essential me, my soul, will then vacate that little space within my heart, leaving the shell of my body to be returned to star-dust through cremation.
RAJA ARASA RATNAM 