Redesign my soul

01 September 2015

Redesign my Soul In response to the two series of Redesign my Brain with Todd Sampson (ABC TV, 2013 & 2015) My soul's antennae are TV-tested for searching power, speed, vibrations – sluggishness is found, and some corrosion, but not a power of deep delusion. I pass, but barely – could do better. Empathy is down, the next test finds, neighbours more passed by than loved. And do I love myself? It's not enough, I'm told, to play Narcissus by the pool; a mirror is no microscope. The strength of my response to horrors passes tests: I do not faint away. I stay cool, call ambulances, I can look tragedy in the face – but do I view it like a B-grade movie? I turn to Soul Intelligence for help; a guru is assigned, the lovely Jai, who shows me cards of many colours, my choices are marked up with meanings – she detects an open soul behind a wall. I surrender to Jai's demolition skills: tap and kick, repeat a hundred times. Spirit flows in drips, then surges, not quite holy and yet tinged with light, faltering, glowing, searching. If this is soul, it's not quite right, trailing fogs of self-deception, I'm tested for a seven-day retreat, and fail. Dark nights could well destroy me, so they judge, but I may strengthen yet. I learn from Mary the escape artiste, how to throw off chains of Satan, six feet underwater, without gasping; acquire the tricks of harrowing hell, and by immersion cleanse the soul. From low base I reach high percentages for toughness, cleverness in losing shackles; now I might apply to be an acolyte of God, but which of many agencies is best? The network offers thirty, I draw back. They're frumpy church or fizzy chapel, drop-in centres, laugh-ins, televangelism. But with a svelte and gym-trim soul, I'm armed against all flab and spread. Move over Todd – I'm ready for my series.

In Quires and Places A cherub soars to high A, nervelessly, then picks his nose, flicking to starboard. Within the Tallis he's a little monkey climbing, swooping, falling – on the note. Eighteen others go with him – no sweat, no mucking up, no worries, all for God, or to keep their choral scholarships. The divine antique shop carries on; red-robed choirboys sit

ARTS AND CULTURE

Redesign my soul

Subscriber login