The Soul of a Van

 

To see a child, pondering their place in the world, is to see yourself, as you truly are, beneath your many layers of armor, made up of iron-like assumptions. No one is the personality they’ve assumed; no matter how old or learned they become.

I am reminded of a 1940 Ford Delivery van, that sits stoically, silently on the side of 411, just out of Cartersville. 83 years ago, the shiny, new Ford rolled out of the factory and into the bright sun. From there, it was shipped to a dealership in Georgia. A young businessman went to the dealership and sat in the new wagon and filled it, first of all, with his imagination. He was going to use the panel van to deliver products. Those products would yield a profit and he would have enough to feed his young family and perhaps, enough to save as well. Mile after mile, the engine roared like a lion and made it possible for the young businessman to get ahead. Eventually, there was the big war of the 40’s and the wagon become more of a storage building for a period, but as soon as the war was over, the young man drove the wagon to the dealership where he traded it for a newer one, with less miles and more features.

Now used, but still running well, the 1940 Ford Delivery van was sold again, to another young man, who used it to grow his own business as a produce vendor. He made a living out of the aging van and eventually sold it and opened a store to sell his produce. He did very well and the van was getting very old.

As usual, another young man was the proud owner of the old van, but the van was starting to smoke and, on occasion, it would not start in the morning. He still used it some days, but in the fall of 1969, he parked it beside the old barn. He didn’t want to get rid of it, and he thought he would restore it one day. The young man grew old and the old Ford started to rust. The tires were all flat and it was used to store some forgotten car parts.

When the property was sold in the late 70’s, the car was inherited by the new owners and they sold it for scrap. The middle-aged man who bought it, saw that it could serve as an advertisement sign, so he parked it beside the road and painted a sign on it, with an arrow, pointing across the street, to his salvage yard.

From then, until now, the car gets painted over often. House paint and car paint are mixed and have created quite a thick layer over the old metal beneath. Sometimes, the old Ford Delivery Van will get a complete bath in white paint, and someone with bring red paint and a brush and paint letters on it once more. Puddles of dried paint surround the car. Drips have hardened like ice sickles over each wheel well. The tires are painted and even the glass is painted. And the delivery vehicle only delivers messages and is a fixture, on the side of 411. And just like you, the 1940 Ford Delivery Van is not that last layer applied to it. It isn’t the layer before that. It isn’t the old, rusting sled, out beside the barn. It isn’t the smoking jalopy that refused to crank on a cold morning. No, that advertising gimmick is still a shiny, new Ford Delivery Van, with every intention of making a living with its driver.

You are not what has happened to you. You are not what others have done to you. You are not the accumulation of years or layers of assumptions. Your purpose is not to become discontinued and to mark the spot where you came to rest.

Where is the soul of that 1940 Ford today?

Later this afternoon, the door to the factory will open, and a brand new Ford Van will roll out into the bright sun. Everything about that van is brand new. It will be ready for work as soon as it gets to the dealership. Of course, vans aren’t conscious, but if they were, this one would feel as though it came to be as the result of what came before. There are elements of the 1940 Ford in the 2023 model. There are still two seats, mounted in a similar place. The steering wheel is about where it was. The engine has pistons that look almost identical to the pistons in the 1940 model. When the van gets to the dealership and a young woman considers it and buys it, she has elements of the soul of the young man who bought the 1940 version. She will use it to grow her business and the new van will experience a similar fate as the one described above.

We see things getting old and we see people getting old, and we make the wrong assumptions. We think that something will end. It never ends. What we call the soul is the eternal part of us. It is the eternal part of everything. The soul of a new, 1940 Ford is as alive and well as the soul of the 2023 model. And when I looked around a particular room yesterday, and I saw grownups who used to be children, I realized they are not the layers of assumptions we see. They are still young children who dream all the time. I know this because here I am, almost 60 and dreaming still. And not long after my body is parked and that point of time is marked, I will be crying, opening my eyes for the first time. I’ll have many of the elements of this life.

Souls do not die. They belong to The Eternal. To make it simple, think of the word “Life” and think of Life as soul. Life was present when your body bloomed to represent it. Life will be just as present when your body stops representing it.

There is a physical experience that changes every second, but all physical experiences occur as a result of only One Life. As The One, there is no time, no being young and no getting old. There is no end and there is no beginning.

There is something you might call a layer of reality, far greater than the many layers of assumptions we apply to the physical. That layer is The Fundamental Layer of Everything. It is always new.

Yes, the body you are now familiar with will fail some day; but that is not Who You Are.

Being aware is to know that You Are, and always will be.