My dad has spent his professional life working as a project manager at a general construction firm. General construction firms build large buildings or complexes of buildings–usually commercial in nature. When I was a little boy I remember my dad coming home with huge sets of building blueprints (nowadays most of the blueprints are computerized). There was a large table we had in our home where he would place all these blueprints on. After dinner he would often be poring over these drawings.
I was fascinated by the blueprints–their color, their smell, the intricacies. All the lines, dots, numbers. I couldn’t interpret the markings on the page–to me there were like some scroll from an ancient language–but I knew that based on these drawings people built real, concrete actual things like buildings. If my dad was in charge of a project to build a grocery store then these drawings–abstract as they seemed on paper–actually pointed to a place where people would eventually buy groceries to eat and live.
For a few summers in college I worked for the same company as my dad–though I worked as one of the manual laborers in the field. I wouldn’t say my brief stints gave me enormous insight into the nature of construction work, but one thing I distinctly recall from my time was how workers in the field had to be very creative in figuring out ways to make concrete the architectural blueprint. The blueprint would say a wall should go along this direct line, except that there was a huge rock deposit along that line, so the wall would have to be shifted slightly. There was (for me) a surprising amount of improvisation in the task.
But the main point being there was the blueprint itself and then there were all kinds of blocks, obstacles, and impediments to making that blueprint realized.
I’ve been thinking a lot about lately my dad’s blueprints. In my work now I’ve learned how to read a different kind of blueprint–not a blueprint to build a building but a blueprint to construct a soul.
Each soul has its own blueprint–it’s singular set of codes that leads to the construction or building of a soul. A soul’s blueprint is its deep pattern–a soul is created to be a certain way, to offer a specific gift. A soul blueprint is like a building blueprint–it envisions the creation of a certain reality. It also however leaves open a huge amount of room for improvisation. There’s an incredible deal of freedom as to how a person decides to concretely express his/her soul’s purpose and identity.
A soul blueprint, like an architectural blueprint, comes in its own specific language. To gain valuable data from the soul blueprint you need someone who can decode the information. A soul blueprint is not a physical object like an architectural blueprint. A soul blueprint is an intuitive source of information. It exists essentially as subtle energy patterns. Those energy patterns have to be read (like a blueprint) and then translated into the language of our concepts, metaphors, and mind. (The notion of a soul blueprint is itself just such an imaginal construction.)
The value of reading the soul blueprint is to learn who we are at the level of soul, who we are meant to be. Acting in alignment with our soul’s blueprint builds a life of deep meaning. We give our deepest gifts. While our spirit is the transcendent, universal dimension of our being, our soul is the deepest part of our individuality.
As I’ve argued elsewhere, the soul is often the missing piece in our contemporary spiritual world. It’s radically marginalized in our world (even in spiritual circles) and therefore the retrieval of our soul’s deep code, its deep blueprint becomes a source of incredible grace, wisdom, meaning, and wondrous power.
I’m trained to read soul blueprints, just as my dad was trained to read architectural ones. This is why I call myself a soul interpreter. Every act of reading the energetic, intuitive information of a soul is a form of interpretation. I’m like a translator–I speak the language of the soul (what I call imaginal language) and I speak the language of our everyday conventional world. I’m bilingual in that sense–I can translate the language of the soul to the language of everyday existence and vice versa.
My training as a soul interpreter involves four main elements:
- The capacity to access the source of the intuitive information (to actually learn how to establish a connection with a soul’s blueprint).
- To be able to read and interpret the blueprint once it’s accessed. This step provides an understanding of the soul’s original blueprint–how it is designed to be and to express.
- To be able to read for the degrees of alignment (or misalignment) between the soul’s original coding and the person’s day to day life. The soul is both very powerful but also vulnerable. Choices that are out alignment with our soul’s intending coding leads to blocks, restrictions, bruises, ailments, and constrictions, inhibiting the soul from expressing it’s fullest potential and purpose.
- The ability to initiate healing and clearing of any of these ailments, blocks, or restrictions to the soul’s original blueprint, restoring the soul more and more to its original coding.
Put together, these four elements, are an interlocking set. They form the basis of a modality of healing and empowerment of the soul. The path of the soul is each person’s to walk and find but an interpreter along the way can be of great assistance. It’s my great honor to have been called and gifted to play that role in the lives of others. Reading the soul of another is a most holy undertaking only to be done with extreme care. It’s a sacred responsibility and privilege in my life.
And like any great act of construction, it all begins with a blueprint.
* If you are interested in learning more about soul readings, please contact me for a free consultation.