We interviewed a young man today. He was bright and enthusiastic — maybe a little too much so. I thought of a spring rain — refreshing and needed, unless you get caught in it and become soaked! Indeed, it was raining when he arrived.

I left work that day smiling, thinking of this young man, ready and willing to work hard and invest in his future by sharing in ours. Already he had provided me with a measure of his energy just by our short conversation. This was a nice ending to a hectic day.

It made me think. What do I share with others in my talks and interactions — both consciously and unconsciously? Sometimes my focus is elsewhere, and I can imagine seeds falling on desert ground, rather than the moist soil this gentleman brought with him. Sometimes what I'm sharing may be like a tidal wave. Even the best-prepared soil will erode when the monsoons hit.

This young man didn't realize it, but he was feeding my soul. I think, perhaps, we don't appreciate how much we nurture or starve each other. And, as I am thinking about it now, whether we get fed or go hungry is often our own doing, although we frequently don't notice that either.

In truth, I can liken it to the way many of us nourish our physical bodies. Although we may eat three meals a day, those meals may or may not actually be good for us. How many of us are consuming empty calories, or eating foods that nourish our stress, loneliness or depression?

Our physical bodies need healthy food and water from the Earth, as well as those oft overlooked ingredients of air and sunlight. In the same way our spirits need what some have called the "bread of life" or truth, along with joy, beauty and goodness. Some of these elements we receive from others, including creation. Others we sow ourselves, as the popular quote says: practicing random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.

The health of our spirit selves will reflect the substance of our earthly lives, in much the same way a rose will reflect the soil and nutrients in which it grows. In this way, every moment of our life is intimately connected to that spiritual aspect of ourselves that we can neither see nor touch, but which we can feel nonetheless.

That young man made me think about every moment of my giving and receiving. He made me reflect on how inattentive I am of the energy and purpose I am projecting. How gracefully am I living in true love? How beautiful are the results at the end of the day? How loving are the relationships I cultivate? How mindful are the steps I take, or the thoughts I make?

Because our spirit grows without our noticing, just as our body is nourished by what we eat, it is often when we are faced with a crisis that we notice our recklessness. The results of too much fast food can be the warning signs of a heart attack. The results of a life not lived for the sake of others can become apparent after that moment we are faced with our own mortality.

Tonight I am grateful — an emotion that nurtures openness and forgiveness. It is with this attitude that I say goodnight to my own young man. I am not working hard enough yet to connect with him, to create those intimate bonds that go beyond blood and feed the soul.

"If each of us held a candle there,

and if we went in together,

we could see it."

— Jelaluddin Rumi

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Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad.