The Soul as a Destination

From the Museum of Fine Arts - Boston, Massachusetts

“Sometimes light only makes itself known when it passes through something fragile.”

This installation at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston reminded me that the soul, too, reflects in layers—seen from different angles, never quite all at once.

Imagine that your soul is a top, personal tourist destination. Sounds foolish, doesn’t it?

We usually think of a tourist destination as somewhere outside ourselves—something scenic, something you travel to with a suitcase and a camera in hand, where you take pictures, pick up a souvenir, and leave with a few lasting memories.

But what if the most profound destination isn’t somewhere you go, but somewhere you return to—deep inside yourself? What if it’s a place you’ve always known existed, even if you’ve never been able to describe it thoroughly, capture it, or show it to someone else?

“The souls becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.”

Marcus Aurelius

It’s a little mystic-sounding, sure. But most of us reference the soul often, even casually. We say things like: This speaks to my soul. Or he/she touched my soul. But if asked to describe it, how would you?

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

Howard Thurman

A World Not Built for Us

More and more, I feel like we live in a world that wasn’t built for us, not in the soulful sense. It’s full of systems and expectations that don’t quite fit how we move through life. And yet…we’re expected to find a way anyway.

If you grew up with work and school as the only “silver spoon” you ever understood, you learned early that nothing comes without effort. And honestly, that was okay. That kind of understanding has kept me grounded. It’s made me aware of how my soul responds—what resonates and what doesn’t.

It’s not that these systems don’t serve someone. It’s just that they weren’t designed to serve you. You’ve had to find your way, and in doing so, you’ve arrived somewhere far more honest. You’ve built a life inward—one with real feeling, real presence, and real direction.

“The most common form of despair is not being who you are.”

Søren Kierkesgaard

If I’d been born in another era, the idea of becoming a writer or creator would’ve felt completely out of reach. The world wasn’t made for most people to share their voice. Our refrigerator art was just that—and only that. Our words? Maybe a few lines tucked into a shoebox and forgotten.

And yet here I am: writing anyway, moving objects around, making things, creating something from nothing, and letting it go.

Every week, what begins in my mind ends on paper—and I release it to the world. I’m not elite. I’m not entitled. I just can. And so… I do.

Glass, Light, and Words: Speaking in Subtle Ways

I’ve developed a quiet interest in glass lately. I don’t know why. But I’ve learned that sometimes “because” is reason enough.

Glass… paint… ink… words—they seem to come together in a way that speaks a language I’m still learning. Not fluently. More like listening carefully, trying to understand the rhythm of something that doesn’t speak in complete sentences.

It’s another path that leads inward. Another moment of awe. And like the soul, I can’t explain it to you. I only know that it’s there.

“There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”

Rumi

When light moves through glass, it changes everything. The flaws, the fractures, the transparency—they all come alive. I feel the same about metaphor: it transforms the ordinary into something you feel. Like roadside attractions you never planned for, but now can’t imagine missing.

Sometimes light only makes itself known when it passes through something fragile. That’s where the meaning gathers.

Morning Pages: Daily Red Marks of Change

If you didn’t know, morning pages are a ritual I return to every day. Three handwritten pages of whatever is on my mind. No agenda. Just a quiet, personal mind-dump before the day begins.

And honestly? I can’t tell you what exactly they’ve changed.

But I know they have changed everything.

The entries are so small and insignificant that you'd laugh if someone told you they could change your life. But together? Over time?

It’s like writing an essay and handing it in without ever proofreading. Then it comes back with hundreds of red mark corrections. Each one on its own isn’t a big deal. But the whole of them? That’s real transformation.

“What is necessary to change a person is to change his awareness of himself.”

Abraham Maslow

Subtle work rewires us, not in dramatic sweeps but soft, continuous layers.

Change doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t knock on your door with confetti and fanfare. But one day, it shows up after you’ve done the work quietly and consistently. And you realize: You’ve reached a place you didn’t even know you were heading toward.

“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”

Carl Jung

Talk soon…

G