When the soul leaves the body, what shape is it?

When the soul leaves the body, what shape is it?

Under the flower moon of 2025, I found myself ruminating on a group prompt introduced at death doula school: What is the shape of a soul? My fellow doulas brought their own objects to the conversation: a book, a raindrop. Of course, being a U.S. Navy brat, I kept visualising rough and aesthetic nautical-themed souls and came to a knot. Strong, weak, complicated, and meant to be that way. I wrote my response and texted it to my therapist, hoping to memorialize the moment and calm my mind.

The discussion has stayed with me. What do you think? I don't have any commenters on this new blog platform, and would love to hear from anyone out there. Dear readers, lovers, and haters alike. A commenter to be, no less!

Magicical mysteries are everywhere! I’m reminded of that constantly while raising a one-year-old. It's, like, damn amazing to see him learn how to look at our world with curious and skeptical eyes. 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 first 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

Miranda, in a rainbow sweater, carries her son as the walk around Suquamish: purple rhododendrons and lodge-style building in the background.
Walking around the Suquamish resort with my baby while we charged the car nearby.
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