Hungry Soul — Hurt Soul — Dead Soul
Hungry Soul — Hurt Soul — Dead Soul
How do we identify the state of our being that tells us that our soul is hungry?
Perhaps it requires a pause—a little silence, and some honest reflection.
A hungry soul does not always announce its hunger in words. Sometimes it speaks through a quiet uneasiness within us, a discomfort that arises when we know, somewhere deep inside, that something is not right.
We may experience such a feeling:
→ When the peace of our mind does not return even after we have achieved what we planned or desired through methods that were scrupulous or unscrupulous.
→ When we feel uneasy even after defeating an enemy or rival by using superior force at our disposal.
→ When we fail to acknowledge the hard work done by others in general, or for us in particular.
→ When we snatch something from someone by force instead of respecting his or her consent.
→ When we fail to offer even a small token of gratitude to someone for the help, however little it may have cost us.
→ When we fail to provide help or support to someone whom we know to be genuinely in need, even though helping that person is well within our capacity.
At times, the painful part is not that we could not help, but that we could have helped and chose not to. The missed opportunity to be of help may return to trouble us when we are alone with our thoughts.
→ When, upon reflection, we discover that our means of climbing the ladder of progress were full of vices, compromises and unscrupulous methods.
The above list is not exhaustive; it is merely illustrative. Such situations may occur in our daily lives, not just once but repeatedly, and in many different forms.
The frequency of these reminders from within can sometimes become so high that we gradually learn to turn a deaf ear to them. What once disturbed our conscience begins to disturb us less. What once made us pause begins to pass unnoticed.
And that, perhaps, is the most dangerous stage.
For a hungry soul is not necessarily a dead soul. Hunger itself may be a sign that the soul is still alive—that it still longs for truth, integrity, compassion, gratitude and inner harmony.
When we repeatedly ignore that hunger, however, the soul gets hurt.
And when we continue to silence its voice, compromise after compromise, excuse after excuse, the pain may eventually turn into numbness.
Then we may become outwardly successful, efficient and capable of handling difficult situations with what we call maturity, while inwardly becoming increasingly insensitive to the very voice that once guided us.
Perhaps, therefore, the real tragedy is not that the soul becomes hungry or even hurt.
The real tragedy is when we become so accustomed to ignoring its hunger that we no longer hear it.
A hungry soul may still be a living soul.
A hurt soul is a warning.
But a soul that has ceased to protest may be a soul approaching death.
R.R.P.
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