Though I’d probably deny it in open conversation, I do believe we have a soul. I know it. I think of the soul as a blind, mute pilot who accompanies our physical form and feels everything. It doesn’t guide us, it doesn’t lead us, but it is the essence of us.
However, I don’t think we should ignore the body. It’s our physical form. It contains us and when it dies, so do we. Whether or not the soul continues, I don’t know, but what I do know is that if I love a person, I love their soul, and their intellect, but I love their physical form too.
A small example, literally. My dog, Angus. He has a soul. He’s friendly and he wants to do well. He’s also a destroyer of creatures big and small. But he has soul. I look in his eyes and I see it shining out. I love his little soul, but I love his little physical form too.
I don’t think I could face heaven. Sure, I could get all spiritual with the souls of the people I love, but I’d miss their physical forms, the weight of them; their presence. I’d miss hugs, and conversation and all the other stuff that makes life complete.
So, while I believe in the soul, I have no wish to spend eternity on a cloud playing a harp, getting all ESP with the souls of my loved ones. I want to have a cup of tea with my girl, in a cafe on a rainy day; I want to play music with my friends, and fun fight with my dog. I want to listen to my children talk.
Souls are good, but this physical life is for keeps.