When the soul leaves the body, what shape is it?
Especially now, raising my one-year-old, who is just beginning to see the world with curious, skeptical eyes. Magic and mystery live right here. I’m reminded of that constantly.
How much fun it can be! Not knowing what comes next.
What is the shape of a soul?
I think our souls are shaped like a long piece of rope,
tied in a special knot when we are born,
an ancient knot, woven from ancestral decisions and circumstance.
It is beautiful to behold,
intricate as the pupil of an eye,
with colors spanning every wavelength
of reflected light.
A few drawn to its mystery, try to untie it,
to solve the puzzle of their generation.
“We must break free from our past,"
seeking the serenity of slack line.
This knot is cleverly tied; every life is.
Its design ensures it always tightens when touched.
Not a puzzle we can solve. Now I begin to understand my own unknowing.
I learn to let the knot fulfill its purpose.
Time weathers the rope,
wearing it thin,
until the final fiber breaks.
That unique knot is forever gone somewhere.
How do we preserve ourselves, here, secured by just a rope?
As time brings stronger winds, the knot’s value grows clearer
and becomes our saving grace.
Miranda Sita | April 18, 2025, Bainbridge Island, WA
And congrats to me on the new website launch!
RIP, old blog—you’ll be missed. I’ll be publishing refreshed versions of old posts here as I edit them.