Genesis 2:7 KJV
And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul*.
*Nepeš - soul, self, life, creature, person, appetite, mind, living being, desire, emotion, passion
I stumbled upon a method of visualizing my soul from a peculiar source: a fiction book series
called Defiance of the Fall. Defiance of the Fall is a LitRPG series following the protagonist Zac as he confronts inner
struggles manifested through vivid spiritual metaphors, blending Eastern philosophies like Hinduism and Taoism with survival
in a game-like multiverse. Zac’s journey emphasizes spiritual growth through introspection and personal transformation amidst chaos.
The author uses many Hindu, Buddhist, and Tao themes throughout the series to help describe the characters inner struggles with power.
In Hinduism, visualization is a key practice in Tantric traditions to gain greater access to the mind and spiritual realities.
Christians may use visualization as a spiritual tool to engage their hearts and minds with God's promises and build trust in His
plan. Visualization can be used to reflect on one's soul and spiritual journey, seeking conviction, confession, and transformation.
In Defiance of the Fall, as characters grow stronger and face internal struggles, they develop their own vivid inner worlds,
symbolizing their spiritual and emotional states.
It was this theme that inspired everything.
Strangely enough, this fictional concept of inner landscapes prompted real spiritual reflection, making me question why
visualization impacted me so deeply.
Just as the series portrays inner worlds that reflect spiritual states, visualizing my soul revealed an inner landscape of its own.
My soul appears as a black lake of oily water beneath a bright blue sky. The lake is like a bottomless black pit. Yet,
I know this is not the natural order of things. The lake shouldn’t be black or oily. It should be clear and blue; like
the ocean on a bright sunny day. At the center of it all are two arms outstretched towards each other. One, coming from
the blue sky. The other, coming from the depths of the oily lake.
When lost, the hand from the depths sinks into complete darkness. No matter how desperately I reach from the sky, my grasp
remains empty. On these difficult days, I know my soul is troubled. Repairing this spiritual connection is not immediate—it
involves careful reflection on what I've allowed into my life and how I've nourished myself spiritually. Both the bright
sky and dark lake have selective appetites; each respond distinctly to what I choose to feed them. Just as a tree grows
from sun and water, and dies from lack thereof, my soul thirsts for its own sun and water.
Just as you would drink water to hydrate your body, the act of going to church or praying “hydrates” my soul. Pouring clear,
pure water into the depths of the lake, a hymnal ringing through the chasm, vibrating the calm waters and breaking up the
oil—soon consumed by the purity surrounding it.
Yet, a crude act will boil the arms alive, loosening their grip on each other…
Immoral judgements fracture the very bedrock, inviting more oil…so much oil…
What is this oil?
I believe it represents sin, evil—even the devil himself. Yet, why do I welcome him with open arms? He is like a vampire,
asking permission to enter, only to drain the very life from my soul. Dragging parts of myself back into the chaos from
which they emerged.
But what of the hands?
As I visualize these two hands straining to grasp each other—one from the brightness above, one emerging from darkness
below—I’m reminded of Atlas, the Greek titan forever burdened with holding the heavens from the earth. Perhaps my soul is
caught in a similar tension: an inner struggle between the spiritual ideals I aspire toward and the heavier realities I
carry beneath the surface.
The hand from the blue sky can barely grasp the hand from the depths as it is covered in oil—the sin of my past. This moment
is where time and meditation come into play. Reading the Bible, prayer, attending church, and surrounding myself with healthy
relationships have all helped wash away the oil from my soul. For example, an inspiring church service often feels like a
waterfall cascading into the lake within me, cleansing and refreshing its depths.
I don’t have the answers. But I pray that time will tell. It is clear to me that this is an important juncture—so much so that
I regularly dive into my soul to check myself. If I can feel that I have a firm grasp on the hand from the depths, then I
know I’m doing ok.