"The metaphor of imagination guides us back to the land of the soul. That is my map. Soul is the place that imagines. The wounds of soul, then, would be the wounds of the imagination, places in the geography of the inner life that have been strip-mined and left barren. To develop the soul we would have to concern ourselves with the strengthening of imagination, give ourselves over to the hard labor of restoring depleted soil, stemming the tide of erosion, cleaning out the toxins from all the years of abuse. And to feed the soul we would have to find ways to nourish the imagination, beginning with fertilizers, yes, from the compost heap, and then turning the soil over with the blade of a plow in the proper season to give it light and air, and watering it carefully with living water until in the end it might sustain a garden to feed us once again."