Do you ever long to touch another person’s soul, yet hesitate because such an act feels too intimate, too spiritual, or perhaps even intrusive? A recent encounter reminded me of the power to touch and be touched on the level of soul…

A soul may be touched by a single compassionate word, by a hand that is held in silence, by a sincere embrace, an unexpected act of kindness, a patient listening presence, or a truth spoken with love. Almost any human gesture can become sacred when it arises from a sincere intention to meet another at the deepest level.

Why would we want to touch another person’s soul?

There are countless reasons. We may love someone and long to feel closer to them. We may be moved by something in them and want to make a deeper connection. We may recognize a quality in that person that awakens something within us. Perhaps their courage stirs our courage. It could be that their sorrow opens our compassion. It may be possible that their goodness puts us in touch with our own and we want to establish a soul connection with them.

When we are pulled in too many directions, our lives become complicated —when we want to love but also to control, to serve but also to be admired, to follow God but only if the path agrees with the one we have already chosen. These tensions remove simplicity from our lives— the simple clarity of an undivided self. 

Trappist monk and theologian Thomas Merton (1915–1968) made enduring contributions to Christian spirituality, contemplation, peacemaking, and spiritual formation.

In graduate school, I became fascinated by Elbert Hubbard (1856–1915), the influential American writer, publisher, philosopher, and leading voice in the Arts and Crafts movement.

Everyone in the second grade had a theory about the mystery we faced each day. Our teacher, Mrs. Fell, had a glass eye.

In July 1969, the world watched in astonishment as the Apollo 11 mission carried three human beings on a mission to the Moon.

Simplicity is precious because it calls us back to the uncluttered place within —the place before everything became so tangled, before our minds became crowded, before our hearts became guarded, before we mistook complication for wisdom.

Life…. It is simple. And yet, complex..

Most of us like to have things in order.

We make lists. We keep calendars. We plan the day, the week, the trip, the meeting, the meal, the future. We feel better when we know what comes first, what comes next, and what we can expect after that.

A wonderful woman recently reminded me what comes first.

When she was a pig-tailed little girl, she spent a great deal of time with her grandfather, Paw Paw, who lived out in the country. He had a nickname for her—one he had made up himself: Grabble Tail. No one knew where the name came from, but it belonged to her because he had given it to her. And he never stopped calling her by it. She often spent the night at his house, and when she was about nine years old, she began “cooking” for him during her visits. One day she put chicken pot pies in the oven, then ran outside to play.

An email angered me because it was full of misinformation. My first impulse was to write the sender back and “set them straight.”

Once, as a young adult, I revisited my grammar school— E.R. Dickson Elementary in Mobile, Alabama. It was just as I had remembered it, all in living color! The smell of freshly waxed hallways, the murmuring voices of children in their classrooms, and the aroma of food wafting from the cafeteria. That day, everything came back to me like scenes from an old movie reel. After walking the hallways, I entered the cafeteria, which was also used for school plays and assemblies, and was struck by how much smaller everything was than it had seemed when I was a child.

According to psychologist Abraham Maslow, our first and most basic needs are physical: food, water, clothing, rest, and shelter. Then comes our need for safety. After that comes our need for love and belonging, followed by our need for self-esteem. At the top of his hierarchy is self-actualization— the process of becoming the person we were created to become.

Before life could flourish, there had to be a place for life to flourish.

What is the first thing you do in the morning when your feet touch the floor?

I have a friend in one of my floor classes at the gym who takes her physical exercise very seriously. Glory rarely misses class, and she is a great encourager of everyone around her. Because my space in class is next to hers, we talk regularly, and over the years we have come to know each other well.