When my soul speaks to me, I listen.
When my soul speaks to me, I listen and ask, God?
When my soul speaks to me, I [try] to listen, regardless of what else is happening.
These thoughts, on New Year’s Eve 2015, lead me to the words of Bruno Bettelheim, a psychoanalyst whose book, Freud and Man’s Soul, I’ve read many times, each one giving birth to renewed hope for myself and humankind. The author wrote the book because “…the English translations of Freud’s writings not only distort some of the central concepts of psychoanalysis but actually make it impossible for the reader to recognize that Freud’s ultimate concern was man’s soul, the basic element of our common humanity—what it is, how it manifests itself in everything we do and dream.”
Nowhere in Freud’s prolific writing (manuscripts and correspondence) does he offer a precise definition of what he means by “soul.” He does interchange the words soul and psyche, and state that soul or psyche is what is most valuable to man—mankind’s essence, something intangible yet powerful, and in conflict. It is the place from which our passions emanate, and our minds inform and direct us. Various drives compete for dominance and control of our souls. This struggle can bring a richness of healthy emotion and well being to our lives, but may entail equal measures of befuddlement and clarity, elation and depression, joy and sadness, and through these experiences we find, then reach our soul’s deepest meaning.
Back to my listening habit.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions because my life tends to be an ongoing series or cycle of evolving resolutions involving hopes, dreams, expectations, an ongoing search for truth and wisdom, and plans for implementing parts or all of them. These manifest themselves in relationships, professional practice, habits I embrace—exercise, meditation, writing, reading—and the one I’m least faithful in doing, care for my soul, a quiet time that requires active listening—focused and open to whatever occurs.
An imaginary linear graph would show my mixed results—exhilarating spikes and precipitous drops, and when I don’t live fully into the hopes and dreams et cetera, the disappointment compounds the frustration of not achieving a steady ascent. When I get “slogged-down” by “stuff” (and I do), I become impatient, resist sitting quietly, and then with love and humility say—“Roger, I’m missing you.”
These are the times when digging deeper becomes tough. There are aspects of who I am that I do not enjoy (and sometimes don’t even remember), let alone want to confront, yet these are the foibles or brokenness in most need of exploration, insight, and healing.
One of Freud’s followers, Donald W. Winnicott, a British psychoanalyst, captures my dilemma in these words: “We cannot experience what we cannot remember, and we cannot remember what we try to forget.”
Freud suggested that meaning and the good life come with satisfying and sustaining relationships with those we love, and work, which helps us and others to have a better life. His use of the term “soul” has an inexactness to it, but it resonates with me at an emotional level. In my fragile spiritual core the word soul arouses my attention, perks me up, and I declare with anticipation and hope for “romance with my soul.”
“Speak to me, soul. I’m listening!”
by 
“Soul” such a multi faceted and engaging word. Maybe dance with your soul – why not?
I awoke this morning to the blessed peaceful beauty of this season’s first dusting of snow here. It transforms the landscape outdoors and invites me to sit quietly and listen to my inner self. Your reflections and writings evoke musings about the mysteries, miracles, and magic in our lives. I like to believe that God is always with us, speaking to us and through us, and expects us to listen to our souls as we experience the yin and yang, and live the give and take, the ups and downs of our human existence. Thank you for sharing, as you dance and romance your soul, mon ami.
Colette,
What a soul-quieting picture! Magic, mystery, soul-romance, and peace in a snow-covered landscape. Thanks for reading and commenting,
Roger
I also have read and continue to refer to Bettelheim’s book, Freud and Man’s Soul. A life changing concept I learned from reading it is how insufficient our English language is in describing emotional complexities that transcend intellect and feelings.
I love how you describe your emotions in mathematical graphs that I can easily picture. I often think and feel in statistical graphs. It is really like speaking another language that is more pictorial. Perhaps it makes up for our lack of English words to describe emotional issues.
I do not believe it is helpful to me to make New Years resolutions, but if I were to resolve to take Winnicott’s advice I would seek to remember so that I might experience what I need to forget.
Kay,
I’m glad you find reference to his book valuable, and I appreciate that my non-mathematician’s reference to a linear graph had relevance for you. I like the way you reversed Winnicott’s words–the goal of psychodynamic work. Thank you for your comment, Roger
A friend wrote that she’d read these posts, and commented on one, but found that this one “has me stumped.” She continued; “Whenever you start to refer to Freud and your understanding of “soul” and “psyche” I manage to get bogged down in the little I know about Freud, (years ago in a counseling class)and my soul which I can locate sometimes when something strikes me like hammer to steel in my being.
This is one of the points Bruno Bettelheim is addressing in the book I mentioned in the post. The essence, and intent of Freud’s thoughts and concepts are often confusing to English reading folks because the translation(s) don’t capture the meaning Freud intended. There are times when I’m stumped by something I read. If I sit with it, let the percolation of my confusion have its way I’ll eventually find something of myself in the author’s words.