(Taken from a journal entry dated 19 December 1999)
Think of yourself as a candle. There are an infinite number of potential shapes and sizes of candles. Some are elegant and lovely. Others are purely utilitarian and perhaps bland in appearance. But no matter the exterior appearance, the most important part of a candle is the wick. The wick is what makes a candle a candle. What would a candle be without its wick? Merely a lump of wax. It doesn't matter how comely is the lump of wax. If it doesn't have a wick, it is not a candle.
In the same way, without a soul you are not a living person. You are merely a body, a lump of flesh. You may have a beautiful form--an elegant, exquisite body or a square, stocky, utilitarian body, but none of this matters. What matters is the wick. Without it, you are dead flesh, a corpse. With it, you are a person, a living, breathing human being.
Every living being has a soul, just as every candle has a wick. No soul = no human being. No wick = no candle. But not everyone has discovered their soul. It's ironic, but anthropomorphize a candle for just a moment, if you will. Here is this lonely candle hanging around in a drawer, waiting to be used. It doesn't know why it's lying there in this drawer. It's kind of dark in the drawer, kind of lonely in here without any other candles or any sense of purpose for its existence.
Just as it is on its way to a pity party about its plight in life, the drawer slides open, a hand reaches in and takes out the candle. The candle is set into a candle holder. A match is struck. The wick is lit, and voila! There is light, and behold, it is very good. The candle finally gets it--the purpose of its being. It understands in a flash the meaning of its existence and how it fits in the bigger scheme of things. This can be compared to the first moments of enlightenment, when we come to an understanding that each of us has a purpose, and that purpose involves bringing light into a darkened space.
