When we go on EMS calls we likely need to fly folks off the island (there's no hospital here). When we do we work closely with our air assets, choppers, small planes, etc. and the incredibly skilled pilots and flight nurses inside them. Apparently, when they depart, each air asset needs to account for people on the plane (in the case they crash) and they do this by counting the number of souls aboard. They don't differentiate between crew and patient/s as each alive person is a soul aboard, dogs are not counted as a soul aboard, neither are cadavers or unborn children (which makes me think it's not a religious remnant).
I knew the feeling that had come over her: The moment of departure. Something I’ve forgotten. Where is it? What is it? But the soul has already taken off, light and swift on its journey. The body lags behind, vacates, deadweight, slow to move on.
Away and away the aeroplane shot, till it was nothing but a bright spark; an aspiration; a concentration; a symbol...of man's soul; of his determination...to get outside his body
Time shifted so gently around the surface of the globe, he thought: there should have been no cause for human bodies to be traumatized by its discontinuities—until people started piercing telegraphic holes from one time zone to another, or leaping, jet-engined, between continents. The universe was not born to understand neologisms like
Yang connects the concept of jet lag too to the idea of a lover: “Jet lag describes the site of love as time in which one is alone, e.g. awake alone in the night, socially less compatible and in this time-space of aloneness one can love and be loved without a division of self and the other.”