The challenge of this chapter is to become acquainted with your own soul. Your soul is that “You” which is eternal and cannot be seen, yet the power of this “You” is evident in great and marvelous manifestations from the time that “You” is injected into this earthly plane. Annalee reminds us that the flesh is not the real man, the soul is.
“The spirit and the body is the soul of man.” (RLDS D&C 85:4a). As the author describes the miraculous events which take place in the human body from the time of birth onward, we can begin to see with our mind’s eye the partnership involved with the body and the spirit to make up the soul of “You.” Annalee starts a short mental exercise with the physical “You” in order to help you become acquainted with the spiritual “You.”
Her sincere cry is, “Oh, man, who is taken for granted by the foolish -- but man, the majestic marvel of the wise”!
Her efforts to acquaint us with our own soul are eloquent and wise. As you read this chapter, let your mind flow with wonder at the amazing partnership of the body and spirit – the partnership of your own soul.
Did your parents create you? Did your existence commence with your birth into this world? Or do you have an eternal soul, something beyond this physical body of flesh and bones your father and mother gave you?
If your parents created you, would they not know what makes you "tick?" And if anything went wrong with this strange human mechanism, surely they would be able to fix it. If I made a car I would be able to repair anything that broke down, it being my brain-child, I having created it, could most assuredly tear it down and then again rebuild it. At least I could replace the damaged, broken, marred part. Then why can't these parents mend and heal a little broken body? For the simple reason they do not know the first thing about it. They do not know until the child is born whether it is a boy or a girl. They look carefully over the outside and pronounce it normal, but what do they know about the inside? Every organ may be misplaced, every fibre working backward, the heart on the right side, the stomach upside down, a thousand irregularities, but do the parents understand that? Could they do anything about it if they did? Is the gift of creation given to human parents in its fullness? Or could it be that parents are only co-creators with the great God of souls? If parents, indeed, can create a child and unaided give it life, they are no longer mortals but gods.
Within each soul which comes to earth is a knowledge of chemistry greater than any living chemist ever possessed, or ever will possess on this earth.
Assume that you were handed a great tray of food; soup, salad, potatoes, gravy, vegetables, meats, desserts -- and told to build yourself a body. Conceive, if you can, your utter bewilderment if you were commanded to portion so much to marrow, so much to bones, blood, fingernails, hair, the color of your eyes, the liver, skin, nerves and energy. Yet within you is a knowledge that does just that very thing. Did your parents give you that knowledge? How is it that the tiny, new-born infant drinks of its milk, and begins to grow finger and toenails, eye lashes, hair, larger bones, more flesh? And that very growth must come from within. No one teaches it, not here. Surely that knowledge is not an hereditary gift because no parents since the world began ever had that knowledge in their physical minds to hand down. You say it is instinct. Then tell me what is instinct? Where does it come from? How is it that the tiniest insect is endowed with this powerful force of knowing?
And for that matter, what are hunches? You have had them. Every man has had them. But what are they?
Anyone who has ever watched birth or death, and who has used his brain to think, cannot deny the existence of the soul. At birth the tiny infant is a little lump of inert flesh, then suddenly it spreads its tiny arms, opens its mouth, every muscle and fibre becomes imbued with life. A victorious cry issues forth, and as it breathes the breath of life, it becomes a living soul. Such is the miracle of life that is ours.
At death the vital, living, thinking, feeling, moving power departs. What was it? Where did it go? You may say, it died with the body. But how could that be? The body is still there in all its tangible, mortal reality -- not one single cell of it has disappeared -- all that is gone is the living, breathing, feeling, warming power of intelligence, energy and action -- the great intangible, dynamic power to think -- the soul of being. It is true that only the intangible, invisible part of being has departed. Yet that intangible part is the true reality of man. What is anyone without it but a lump of slowly, disintegrating, lifeless flesh? Yet that very power and reality of being has been denied, ignored and most shamefully neglected.
This magnificent thing which is man. Whence came he? Whither does he go? "Oh God, what is man, that thou art mindful of him? Or the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honor." (Psalms 8:4-5).
This glorious structure of man, how does it work? Was there ever anything more perfect than the human body that has the power to rebuild and heal itself? You scientists and inventors, could you create a man and give him breath, the power to think and feel and act? Could you create anything with power and knowledge to rebuild itself, to heal its wounds? Could you even create a heating and cooling system as perfect as that within a humble, mortal man? Your great porcelain refrigerators are automatic, unbreakable, efficient, but are they perfect? Is it not true that your little motors speed along on the electric current, burning energy sent out from the main source of supply, humming along for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time, then to keep the regulated temperature desired, it is necessary that they shut off completely for ten or fifteen minutes? However, man's temperature control never shuts off. In the blizzards of Alaska or the scorching desert heart, man's temperature sings along at ninety-eight degrees if he is normal. Oh, man, whence came this perfect plan to balance cold or heat, to control it in one small body of flesh and blood?
Of all the animal creation, man alone has the knowledge and power to clothe himself. All animal life is clothed with skin or scales, feather, or hair; and each unfortunate beast wears his clothing without change except for falling or growing hairs, cells, or scales of his hide. Mankind can change his garb at will, from crisp clean cottons to silks, linens or velvets. He can bathe, dress, reason, build, tear down, explore or WILL.
Man is the only one of all animal creations that continually walks upright. He is perfectly balanced. He can dance, teeter on his toes, lean to or fro, whirl, stoop, or leap into the air. What stump the height of a man could keep its balance long if let to stand upon a foundation no larger than the feet of man? The first breeze would topple it over and leave it lying prone upon the earth. A man can brace himself against the wind. He can climb a mountain steep. Even more, with two-inch soles upon his feet he can reach down into the earth and cling to the ground, making himself a third heavier than his ordinary weight to lift. What is this power within man, this WILL, that can reach down through solid wood or leather, or even metal and cling to the earth? Who can explain it? Yet with all this power of grace and balance, rhythm and motion, the moment a man dies, his limbs buckle beneath him and no power on earth can make him stand alone, unaided. He turns back to a lifeless lump of flesh. what becomes of the warmth, the life, the twinkle in the eyes, the breath, the energy, the desires, the power to love, to think, to feel? Oh, man, who is taken for granted by the foolish -- but man, the majestic marvel of the wise.
Science tells us that anything a man can imagine, he can produce. Telephones, houses, sky-scrapers, bridges, electrical wonders, cars, airplanes, radios, television, atomic power, shoes, clothing, or furniture are all the mental dream-children man has brought into being. Anything a man can imagine is possible. This is an undisputed fact although everything that man has dreamed of has not yet been brought forth. In time it will be.
There is only one thing in all existence that man cannot possibly imagine. There is only one thing that you, individually, cannot imagine. And that one thing is: THAT YOU ARE DEAD! You may think you can, but can you? Is it possible to imagine yourself completely dead, or non-existent? Let us try it and see. Picture yourself laid out on a couch, a bed, or in a soft, plush-covered casket, your hands folded, your eyes closed, your breath gone, your whole body cold and still. You can even imagine your loved ones and friends grieving for you, you can see the flowers, the funeral procession, the grave. It is a simple thing to imagine this body dead because that is possible. But where are YOU? Are you not there watching, feeling, thinking, analyzing? Oh, yes, you are there, beholding it. Suppose we try it from another angle. Put yourself into that dead, lifeless corpse lying on the bed, your hands folded, your eyes closed, does that help? No. For YOU are still thinking, still alive. The only thing you cannot possibly imagine is yourself absolutely dead, this living, thinking, feeling part of you, because it is one thing that is utterly impossible. You imagine the body dead. Surely. But never the eternal YOU that lives in the body you have built.
Let us now analyze this spiritual YOU. In order to do this it will be necessary to begin with the physical. Commence with your feet. Analyze them. Think of them. Feel them. Wiggle your toes. Become very foot-conscious. They are part of you, but they are not YOU. They could be cut off and YOU would still be there. Next, think of your legs, they, too, are part of you, but they are not YOU. Go on up to the intestines, the kidneys, the stomach, liver, heart, lungs -- it is possible to examine each organ as you would examine the furniture in a room, they are there and earthly life needs them as furniture is needed in a home, but they are not YOU. Go on up into the throat, the ears, the eyes, their sensitive connections with the brain, they are part of you, or the furniture, but not YOU. Then if you know anything about human anatomy you can stand apart and analyze your own brain, that physical, tangible bit of gray matter, you can actually seem to caress it with your spiritual fingers, and as you do so, you discover that even the brain is not YOU.
Is it not then an easy matter to become acquainted with your own soul? The wisest teachers of the East have said, "Whatever you are looking for you must first find through yourself." We find that the flesh is not the real man, that the materiel brain is not the life-giving intelligence within him. We do not have to take the spirit out and handle it to know that it is there any more than we have to put our clumsy fingers within our skulls to be sure that there is a brain within.
Most people, however, in building their little clay houses from the elements of the earth have built them too solid and too compact. They have left no windows for the soul to look out and they dwell as prisoners locked in the dark confines of their physical selves. The word "personality" is from the Greek word, "persona" meaning a mask. The mask for most people has become the reality. It becomes the person and the individual behind the mask becomes buried. Open wide the windows, or if you have built none, then rebuild. Hew out openings and let light shine in -- and vision will come and the eternal joys of everlasting value will begin to find a place in life for YOU. The physical body senses only the earthly, tangible, decaying substances of which it is composed -- the spiritual senses the everlasting glory of light and hope, ideals and laughter, love and thought. It deals with that which is beyond decay. It deals with the eternal, indestructible elements of eternal energy, power and light. It deals with the substance of reality, for it is existence itself. It is the eternal.