The Weightless Soul

“This song was written in the quiet of an old Jesuit library, surrounded by the thoughts of those who came before me—philosophers, saints, seekers of truth. It was inspired by a student who, like so many of us, wrestled with the tension between the security of possessions and the call to something deeper. I have learned that the vow of poverty is not about loss, but about freedom. It is an invitation to hold onto what truly matters—to wisdom, to love, to faith—rather than what fades with time. I hope this song serves as a reflection for all who are searching for what cannot be bought, but only discovered.” Padre Juan, S. J.

The Library at Dusk: When Padre Juan Wrote “The Weightless Soul”

The old Jesuit library in Madrid was nearly empty, save for the quiet rustling of pages and the soft creaking of wooden chairs. Padre Juan sat alone at a heavy oak desk, surrounded by books that had stood the test of time—works of Augustine, Aquinas, and the wisdom of the Stoics. The dim light of the setting sun filtered through the stained-glass window, casting long shadows across the room.

It had been a long day of lectures and discussions, and yet, his mind lingered on a conversation from earlier that afternoon. A promising student, Alejandro, had approached him after class, struggling with a question that weighed heavily on his heart.

“Padre, I want to dedicate my life to something meaningful, but I fear losing what I have worked for. My family wants me to build a future, to achieve, to secure my place in the world. And yet… I feel drawn to something deeper, but I don’t know if I can let go.”

Padre Juan had listened carefully, recognizing the struggle in Alejandro’s voice—the same battle he had once fought within himself. Instead of giving an answer, he had asked, "What is it that truly lasts? What is it that makes a life rich, not in wealth, but in meaning?" Alejandro had not been able to answer, and now, hours later, the question remained in the air, unanswered but powerful.

As Padre Juan looked at the centuries-old texts before him, he thought of all the great minds who had left behind wisdom, not possessions. Socrates had owned nothing, yet shaped civilizations. Augustine had abandoned wealth for truth. Even Christ himself had walked without gold, yet changed the world.

Slowly, he reached for his notebook, the same one he carried for moments of inspiration. His fingers traced the edge of the worn leather cover before he opened it and began to write:

“I once held tight to what I owned,

The weight of silver, the weight of stone.

But all I gathered turned to dust,

And left me longing for what must…”

The words came effortlessly, as if they had been waiting for him to find them. He picked up his guitar from the corner of the room and strummed a slow, steady melody—like a thought unfolding, like a truth revealing itself in silence.

As he wrote the chorus, his heart settled into peace. This was the answer to Alejandro’s question. It was not about abandoning life’s opportunities, but about choosing what truly lasts. Not about rejection, but about freedom.

By the time the last light of day faded from the stained-glass windows, the song was complete. Padre Juan closed his notebook and smiled. Tomorrow, he would share this with Alejandro. And perhaps, like the wisdom left behind by those who came before him, it would help light the path for another seeking soul.

A deeply contemplative and thought-provoking song on the Jesuit vow of poverty, written from the perspective of a philosopher and theologian. The song has a meditative, almost mystical quality, blending classical guitar with ambient strings and a slow, steady rhythm that invites deep reflection. The melody feels timeless, like a prayer sung in the solitude of a monastery, yet relevant to the struggles of modern seekers. The lyrics explore the contrast between fleeting material wealth and eternal wisdom, leading listeners through a journey of detachment, clarity, and spiritual fulfillment. The tone is solemn yet uplifting, encouraging an inner dialogue on what truly matters.

“The Weightless Soul”
by Padre Juan, S.J.

(Verse 1 – Soft, contemplative, gentle guitar picking)

I once held tight to what I owned,

The weight of silver, the weight of stone.

But all I gathered turned to dust,

And left me longing for what must…

(Pre-Chorus – Rising strings, slow and thoughtful)

Be more than wealth, more than pride,

A truth unseen, yet deep inside.

(Chorus – Expansive, warm, inviting the listener to reflect)

Oh, let it go, be free at last,

The things you keep will never last.

What fades away is not your soul,

But what you give—that makes you whole.

(Verse 2 – Richer instrumentation, deeper vocals, like a philosopher’s revelation)

I walked where wisdom’s feet have tread,

Where kings have fallen, where saints have bled.

And all they left were words of light,

Not golden crowns, but love so bright.

(Pre-Chorus – Repeat, growing in intensity)

Be more than wealth, more than pride,

A truth unseen, yet deep inside.

(Chorus – Sung with quiet conviction, harmonies building around the melody)

Oh, let it go, be free at last,

The things you keep will never last.

What fades away is not your soul,

But what you give—that makes you whole.

(Bridge – Whispered, almost spoken, with an echoing chant in the background)

The mind is clear when hands are light,

The heart sees far beyond its sight.

The silent ones, the ones who give,

They leave behind the love that lives.

(Final Chorus – Soft, fading into stillness, like the closing of a book in an ancient library)

Oh, let it go, be free at last,

The things you keep will never last.

What fades away is not your soul,

But what you give—that makes you whole.

(Outro – A single sustained note on the guitar, then silence.)