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When we are born into this world we are our purest selfs. We know not hate, anger, adversity, or anything other than our natural state of being. Our natural state of being is still, flowing, and peaceful. We haven't yet been programed to judge, compare, or criticize. We haven't been taught by the jaded adults to define ourselves by our looks and accomplishments. No, we loved and accepted ourselves entirely. 

As we start to grow we are able to pick up on how our parents feel about themselves, the world, and other human beings. This starts to have a drastic impact on the way our perception is shaped. We pick up on their hurt, baggage, and pain. Subconsciously we identify with it. We claim it as our own hurt, baggage, and pain, and lug it around like a ball and chain. Slowly our heart chakra begins to clutter with darkness that isn't even ours. We start to miss the euphoric feeling of unconditional love, being fulfilled by the little things, and complete self acceptance. The bright world we knew becomes empty, mundane, and foreign. There is that hidden feeling of missing home. It lingers in the background. Disguised as white noise. A soft howl in the night. But we go on with our lives ignoring the feeling. Ignoring the chilly whispers. Pushing back the tears. We pretend along with all the other hurt adults. We pretend to be ok. And eventually we find that we have become the jaded adults walking around with a cloud that hovers over us, like a wild beast stalking it's prey in the night. 

Is this it? Is that all there is to life? Do you just allow yourself to wither away spiritually merely waiting for your body to croak with old age to confirm your death? Physical death is a mere illusion, the energetic self remains. True death occurs when the spirit dies. So we sit and ask ourselves. Is this the process of this physical dimension? 

I found myself asking these very questions about four to five years ago. I had become that jaded adult with broken wings. I too ignored the whispers calling to me, wanting me to ackonwledge the hurt that resided within my heart. Some of it was my sadness, but I found that most of it either wasn't mine, or no longer existed. A lot of the baggage was of the past. I replayed scenarios of the past over and over in my head. It was like my own horror film, but I couldn't turn it off. Until one day I had a sudden realization strike me like lightning from above. If this happened in the past it doesn't exist anymore. Technically it only exists within my mind. I'm the