More on suicide...

It seems I just can’t stop now that I have started. I think it’s because I feel there are many things that need to be said. I can’t remain silent.

This morning I posted this (with some minor modifications) in one of the forums I frequent:

The recent deleted conversation about suicide in the forum Child Past Lives, and most likely, the time of the year, seem to have triggered some memories/feelings in me related to my last days on Earth during my WWII life.

I barely remember what I have written before in regards to the cause of my suicide, but I think the answers are always the same: I had lost everything, I was utterly alone and I didn't want to live anymore. Is that so hard to understand?

First of all, was it a suicide or not? I've always wondered about this question myself, to be honest, and I've always come to the conclusion it was, no matter who pulled the trigger. Like I told one of the forum members in response to his comment, I'd call it "assisted suicide", but a suicide nonetheless, only the soldier didn't know he was doing me a favor. But no, I know what I did. As someone else said, intent matters... yes, of course it matters.

I also wonder about the resistance and the fear people in general have to talk about suicide. I've observed this fear is more common among people who don't have clear and verified memories of past lives and what happens after death. I guess the reason is they are still afraid of death, and so they are still afraid of living and letting everyone make their choices. Right or wrong, you just can't learn if you don't act. And we all are responsible of our actions and decisions, and of course of the consequences. Death is bad... yes, especially for those staying alive. For dead people, it's just rest and peace. But for some reason they all want us to keep suffering in the afterlife, being judged by "the Elders" or thrown to the darkest pits of the astral (commonly known as Hell).

Well, it seems there are many reasons to commit suicide. I don't know of others, but I think my suicide would fit in the category of "act of rebellion". My WWII life was mainly a life where I couldn't control anything. My mum didn't give a damn about me or my feelings. When my grandparents died she sent me to work as a maid and live with that German man (possibly my father who cared even less about me). Yesterday, when I had memories of being awake in the dark, unable to sleep, thinking where I'd like to go back, the only place that came to mind was my uncle's home. There I had some cousins and was really a home. But I couldn't find out what had become of them after the German occupation. Possibly I hadn't had news of them for years, so I had no place to go back. Anyway, I couldn't go back. I was alone in France with the German Army. My only option was to keep working as a nurse until win or lose.

I was sinking deeper and deeper in my depression, that's sure. Though this keeps being a hunch, I'm pretty sure I died around this time of the year, one of the reasons being Christmas was approaching and I didn't want to spend Christmas without my German boyfriend. But apart from that there was this rage inside me, this desire to stop doing what "they" wanted of me. I wrote this in my journal yesterday, right after the meditation:

"In that life, suicide was the only thing in which I had some power of decision, it seems. This is shit, I don't want to live this. I don't want to fight in this crappy war, I don't want you to decide for me what I have to do with my life. I don't want to meet the only man who showed some interest in me and lose him. Go everyone to Hell".

I think that "everyone" includes living people and also spiritual guides or whoever sent me to live that life.

And so, I quit.

I've stopped wondering what would have happened if I hadn't quit. People are quick to say other people there are always better options, as if they know the future. You see, I quit and probably spared myself lots of suffering. Though it's great to imagine myself as a lovely war veteran lady, it's likely I would have ended up raped by allied soldiers after D-Day and then killed or imprisoned. And then I was reborn as a German boy who loved to play with wooden airplanes. So, was it a right or wrong decision?

Thoughts keep coming. After a tough night (a real bitter watch, until I got asleep), I was surprised when my current partner arrived and told me I looked happy. Maybe a weight is being lifted after all, with all this past life work I’ve done in the last few years. I’ve never felt especially guilty for committing suicide in my WWII life, though I did wonder for a while how I could have done “something like that”. But I soon realized it’s not a crime, a sin, or anything that must be punished. It just happens. Sometimes you decide to do things you are not proud of, that can lead to a variety of consequences. Suicide is one of these things. But it’s not better or worse than other choices, because, every reincarnationist should know, death doesn’t exist. Death is not bad in itself. So, if I decide to kill myself, I’m not going against “any law” or whatever you want to invent to make me feel guilty. It’s my life. It was my choice to come. It’s my choice to leave. That’s all.

After that thread was deleted there was some talking about the convenience of saying publicly things like these I write in my blog. Couldn’t we be influencing another person’s decision and incline them towards suicide, in case they’re on the verge of doing it and we tell them nothing happens? Instead of this, I was thinking of those parents and relatives who unfortunately have a suicide victim in their family and are marked forever, as the rest of society think that’s a disgrace and the victim a sinner. The dead is dead, I doubt anything can affect them any longer. Those who still live not only have to endure the pain of the loss of a loved one in those circumstances, but also the ignorance of the people who judge.  

I speak mainly for them. For the living. I have no fear of speaking the Truth.

REST PEACEFULLY, BECAUSE A SUICIDE IS JUST A NORMAL DEATH.

NOTHING HAPPENS TO PEOPLE WHO COMMIT SUICIDE.

THERE WILL BE UNRESOLVED ISSUES, BUT THAT IS COMMON IN ALL TRAUMATIC DEATHS.

I can say it louder, but not clearer.

"Nothing happens" also means "nothing will change". Your issues won't disappear killing yourself.

And no, I don't encourage anyone to commit suicide. If you're thinking about it, SEEK HELP. Probably you will be luckier than me and will find it.

What happens to people who commit suicide?

[I rarely do this, to translate almost literally something I wrote for my Spanish blog, but I think the occasion deserves this treatment. Suicide is a matter that concerns everyone, and from what I have seen, only in a few places (the main one being Military Past Lives) you can talk about it without wasting your time and effort.

Original entry: ¿Qué pasa con los suicidas?]

A recent conversation in another forum (Child Past Lives) about suicide has made me reflect about this subject again, though I also suspect it’s a time of anniversaries and so this triggers certain inner feelings of rage and sadness I can’t avoid. On the other hand, the truth is I’m feeling a bit frustrated again. Besides my own publications and the book I have written (which is more than a little), I not only don’t see any serious advancement in regards to reincarnation (with the exception of some new forum members who do advance, a lot, at a personal level, which makes me proud and glad at the same time), I even notice a bit of a setback. Or at least that’s the impression I get when I watch certain lectures in certain “spiritual” conventions attended by people that are still very lost.

But, well, I’d better go back to my writing, and today it’s about suicide. I don’t know why this subject is so controversial, even among reincarnationists themselves. Well, I do know: because most of the time reincarnationists also base on their own beliefs instead of first-person experiences. Not all of those who remember past lives remember they committed suicide, and so it seems they treat us, “ex-suicide victims” or those who for some reason wonder about suicide, the same way they treat other people whom they consider they have to commiserate, like all of those who have been “very, very evil”, and then they wish you don’t suffer too much in this life, as undoubtedly they believe you’re going to suffer a lot as a consequence of having been very evil... In that conversation I mentioned above, someone said suicide could be a form of self-punishment for taking someone else’s life and they invited us to guess why Judas Iscariot committed suicide. I almost faint due to the nonsense of these words, thank goodness there are few things that surprise me at this point.

There is also another reason why in general talking about suicide is avoided, besides the fact that rummaging in the wound of those who lost the suicide victim implies to stir a very deep pain and nobody wants to do that. That reason is that if you say nothing happens when you kill yourself, it seems you’re promoting or glorifying suicide, and you’re encouraging everyone to do it. Well, I want to make myself clear I don’t promote or glorify suicide, nor do I encourage anyone to do it. Had I not done it in the past, perhaps I would have known facets of myself that remain hidden nowadays. Or perhaps I would have become a lovely old woman and today I would be telling my great-grandchildren what living through the Second World War meant. Possibly I could have made better decisions... or maybe not. We will never know that, as once we make a decision, we can’t go back and we have to bear the consequences (and, no, this does NOT mean karma exists). So, if I don’t know what would have become of me in my case, how could I know in the case of other people? The circumstances surrounding a suicide are always very different and no one has the right to judge. The important thing here is, whatever you do, it is your decision. You are responsible, and you will realize for yourself if what you did was right, cowardice, a desperate call for attention, a stupidity for abusing drugs or a direct consequence of the depression you were going through.

Anyway, I’m going to say it loud and clear, as is my style:

FOR COMMITTING SUICIDE NOTHING HAPPENS. 

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

This is to say:

No one is going to punish you in the afterlife.

You’re not going to Hell.

You’re not going to be forced to wander in the astral until all the time you had determined to live before incarnating has passed. (This doesn’t mean you’re not going to be a bit confused, in some cases, but this also happens to those who die by natural causes).

You’re not going to “repeat stories” until you learn whatever you came here to learn.

You don’t “break contracts” with anyone, among other things, because I doubt very much there are “binding contracts” in the spiritual world, though many want to sell us so many “soul plans”, “soul contracts” and many other unproved tales. Just an example: someone in that conversation said that in Robert Schwartz’s book Your Soul’s Plan it is said the actions of a person can influence the DNA and be passed down to their offspring. Fortunately this person doubted this was true, as anyone with a minimal knowledge of genetics (and especially if they remember past lives) knows that claiming this is a barbarity, even taking epigenetics into account, something that is starting to be mentioned quite frequently, but only a few really know how it works. Another person said, mainly based on the Michael Newton’s books he had read, that “the soul who committed suicide merely jumps back into another, similar life as soon as possible if not immediately”.  

Well, this is not what happened to me. I remember many lives very close together, but it has nothing to do with the manner in which I died. And after committing suicide in WWII, I reincarnated in West Germany, where I had a quite well-to-do life in which I was an industrial engineer and then I worked for the American Army. It wasn’t a similar life, in any way, to my former life. But I am not an exception. I also know many other people who also committed suicide in past lives, and you know what? None of them has had to repeat stories, nor have they been lost in the astral, nor do they know anything about contracts they made with other souls. Furthermore, currently they all are as happy as a lark. Even if there was something planned, we all have free will. If we wish, we ignore the plan, and that’s all. You can say this is not too considerate or sportsmanlike, that’s true, but if that’s our decision, nothing happens. The others will have to adapt to the changes and improvise. But no one said you will have to pay a price for coming back home before it was due, whatever the reason might be.

Now, will your loved ones suffer? Of course they will. The same way they would suffer if you had died for any other reason. So you will have to evaluate if making your loved ones suffer is worth. But in each case we would have to see who is more selfish, the one leaving because they don’t want to live anymore, or the one that forces someone who is suffering to stay because they don’t want to suffer. Are you going to resolve your problems killing yourself? Of course not. That is not a way to solve anything, it’s as if you quit an exam or leave your team in the middle of a match. You won’t feel great after killing yourself either, that’s true, especially if you killed yourself because you were suffering. Unresolved emotions will accompany you in the next life, and you will have to keep dealing with them. But that doesn’t happen only with suicide, it also happens with many other decisions you made that didn’t turn out as you expected. Sometimes we make mistakes and repent, but luckily we always have new opportunities to act accordingly to the way we consider more correct. Yes, things sometimes are complicated. But no one said living was going to be easy, didn’t they?

I was going to put the link to the thread I was speaking of, but I’ve just discovered it was deleted, so you see I was right when I said this is a controversial subject, and this when it was being very civilized and interesting. I can assure you that doesn’t happen in my own forum, where I like to go to the bottom of things and speak with rotundity.

More information:

Suicide (The Great Escape).

ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY (18-11-2015).

The truth is it’s very hard for me to understand why people find it so difficult to speak openly about such serious and important matters as this. I’ve been very disappointed this thread was deleted, many interesting things were being said and I didn’t feel it was going to turn problematic in any moment. However, I keep seeing it in the lectures I mentioned above. You go to a convention where they talk about life after death (in Spain) and the lecturer refuses to talk about reincarnation or suicide (some for fear of the Church’s reaction, at this point). It’s logical if you know nothing about it, but some reincarnationists do know, no matter who may disagree. It is not a belief, I’m not speaking of spiritualist doctrines that are no more than a religion. We’re speaking of experiences and facts, sometimes even with verified memories, and of very well known people of whom I can say anything out of respect for their anonymity. How much longer will silence prevail? How much longer this secrecy? How much longer the confusion and the eternal doubts? When will we become really free?

Is this blog useful?

Pandora's Box: my experience.

Pandora's Box is not a book for all audiences, I warn you of this right now. Pandora's Box is especially dedicated to all those people who want to know the Truth and are aware they only can find it within them. In this book you will find some of my experiences and one or two personal opinions, but as opposed to what many other authors do, I am honest and I tell you the only thing I know is that I have lived before. Reincarnation, as for today, is a mystery. No one knows how it works, no matter what they say. There is something of which I am completely certain though: there are many people who remember past lives, and no, this is not an illusion of our mind, an entanglement of consciousness or memories transmitted through our genetic code. Besides, everyone can do it.

And most importantly, I don't want you to believe me.

I want you to experience it yourself.

If you want to know whether this book is for you, answer the next questions:

• Are you looking for a master to give you all the answers?
• Someone to give you spiritual advice to make you feel you better?
• A guru who can see your past lives and speak of karmic debts you must pay?
• Do you love to theorize about reincarnation and debate for eternity but you are not interested either in remembering or knowing what people who remember think and feel?
• Do you want to know how to identify your twin soul?
• Do you think it is a waste of time to verify your memories, as you don't even want to know if reincarnation is a reality?

If you answered yes to most of these questions, don't read my book. In it there are neither fantasies nor spiritual teachings more typical of religions.

Reincarnation is a fact. The beliefs that usually go along with it, are not.

So, I tell you what I have experienced myself and the conclusions I have drawn. I give you some advice, but I am not going to preach about the need to forgive your neighbor or evolve spiritually, as no one knows if this is really so. No one knows why we reincarnate, nor do we know why we remember, we simply do.

• Do you have a rational mind and are you interested in knowing more about reincarnation from common sense?
• Do you think for yourself?
• Do you think it is tiresome that no one takes reincarnation seriously, or some even mock people who believe in it?
• You don't understand what they mean with "spirituality"?
• Are you tired to be invited to absurd lectures where they speak of how wonderful regressions are but you never hear anything new?
• Do you want to remember past lives or find out how to deal with the memories you already have?
• Would you like to find people like you, who really knows what remembering past lives means?
• Are you searching for practical and down-to-earth advice?
• Do you think that researching historically your possible memories is essential?

If you have answered yes now, then read my book. You will finally find what you are looking for. You will feel identified. You will stop feeling alone.

La Caja de Pandora y Pandora's Box.

There is a different way to approach reincarnation. 

Not all of us who remember past lives are Brian Weiss' fans, have a crystal ball or recommend everyone to watch the movie Our home (Nosso Lar). Some of us have a scientific mind and we don't believe in anything.

For more information, click in the page Pandora's Box. Remember you also have a Spanish version.

You can purchase my book in Amazon. It is available in both paperback and ebook formats. 

 

Amazon España:

La Caja de Pandora.
Pandora's Box.

Amazon:

La Caja de Pandora.
Pandora's Box.

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Don't keep quiet.

Few things upset me more than seeing a mistreated woman denying the facts or rejecting the help of other people. (Curiously, I always like to remind people men can also be victims, not only women, but that's a different story). The other day I was watching this TV show where Spanish policemen are in action, and they attended a case of this type. There was a female social worker with them, trying to convince the victim to tell them what had happened. She had called the police and she had been beaten, but now she was saying her husband wasn't home and everything was fine. They knew she was lying, but they couldn't enter the house without her permission, and of course nothing can be done if she doesn't want to report the mistreatment.

I was sitting there in the sofa, getting emotional, wishing that the woman talked, knowing I would have given anything for having that kind of help back then. Thinking: "You don't know how damn lucky you are having those police officers at your door. Talk!" Just a word and you can be out of that nightmare... not like things were for me.

Well, last Sunday we had a similar "show", but this time live, at our next door. We heard our neighbors (who happen to be British) were having an argument. That's not unusual, but this time it was being stronger. There was a slam of the front door, her daughter was crying, the wife shouting he was an adult and he shouldn't be behaving like that. It looked like he had kicked them out. Some time later my boyfriend said the police was in our landing, talking to our neighbors. The woman must have called them, her husband didn't deny he had taken her by the throat and the hair, and we heard a police officer saying she had some bruisings and she had been hit in the head. An ambulance was called too. They finally arrested the man, who was trying to explain he is desperate, as he's an English teacher but he can't find a job here. He had to go with them in a car police (thankfully they didn't use handcuffs). Next morning I saw she took a taxi and left with a few suitcases.

All this has made me realize how common this kind of violence is still today, and how easily ignored. It has also reminded me of my own aunt, my dad's youngest sister, and it makes me wonder about how our memory works when we are kids. I was quite young then, maybe 7 or 8. She was the only family from my dad's side living in Madrid, and she had two main issues: being sterile and being married with an abuser husband. When she had problems with him, she could only resort to my dad (and of course my mum). I only have blurred memories, but somehow I know it was something that "resonated" with me, it's one of those instants in childhood when something catches your attention but you don't have a clue why. I remember I liked my aunt's husband. Uncle C was good-looking and always smelled nice. So, hearing my parents on the phone, or maybe discussing in the car while my brothers and I were in the rear sits, talking about what my aunt had said, how "he had dragged her along the hallway pulling her by the hair" sounded quite unreal. And it was scary. As far as I know, they didn't get separated, and she loved him... though the tears and the circles under her eyes told a different thing (and also her own words months later, though I always knew through my parents).

One day he died in a car crash. He was alone. I remember my aunt cried for him. I want to think deep inside she was as relieved as anyone else in the family (though of course you couldn't say that aloud). Luckily, she moved to the south with the rest of her siblings and she eventually found a new man, this time a good one.

It's sad I barely see her now. Anyway, I doubt she would want to talk about all that. But I wish so much I could sit with her and tell her: "You know, I understand you now, I perfectly know what you went through, I know how it feels, how alone and impotent you can feel".

The greatest thing of all is she's always been the merriest woman in all the family, before and after those events. And the most supportive for all of them. She always was my favorite aunt. She must be such a great soul.

Everything is fine.

When memories become too tough and I feel like I can’t bear it anymore, I often get a message from my guide telling me not to worry, everything is fine. Usually it comes with a sense of infinite love and peace in my heart that brings back all the serenity bad emotions threatened to break. It’s like a storm that finally comes to an end.

Earlier today, while I was reading an exceptional NDE account, I was reminded of this undisputable truth, though I can understand it’s not easy to believe for most people. We just don’t understand the purpose of so much suffering in this world. All the people dying, the lack of wisdom and harmony, the infinite cruelty of human beings, disgraces, natural disasters, children starving... everyone asking “If there is a God, where is He? How can He allow this to happen?”

But in the middle of the turmoil, in the middle of my tears, when I’m sobbing uncontrollably due to events from a distant past that still affect me, I always hear my guide’s voice: 

“It’s all right, hush! Enough crying. Everything’s fine!”

We are made to feel emotions, but we are not our emotions. There was something I read in that NDE account to which I can relate so much: when you are out of your body you feel a complete detachment. You can feel a bit sad, but surprisingly you don’t feel anything for your own body, you don’t care too much about the ones you are leaving behind. Somehow you know death is not the end and everything is fine. We are so much more than flesh and bones, we are so much more than someone physical bound to become dust again. Does it matter if you live more or less years in a mortal body, when your soul is immortal?

Well, I was wondering why Johann’s death affects me so much today, now that I know we’re immortal, now that I’ve come to the conclusion reincarnation is a fact and we all have lived many times and we’ll live a lot more. My guide replied to me: “That’s what YOU know, but Katrina didn’t. Katrina lost all she had. She didn’t deal with her feelings back then, and so you must deal with them now”.

And the crying goes on. It will as long as there’s pain inside of me. And anger. And desires to shout. What happens when you block a torrent with a dam, when you cut a life short before the feelings were worked through? You die and get rid of your emotions when you shed your astral body. Death is like a soothing ointment. It relieves the pain, it brings oblivion, peace... for a while. Maybe death is like a drug. But as soon as you have a new body, the energy nets that weren’t totally repaired rekindle those past emotions, and life goes on... Is there a reason for this, or is it just how it works? My position is clear. It’s just a natural process.

And whatever happens, everything is fine. After all, we are love. We are. For eternity.

IN MEMORY OF THE MARTYRS

Life is like a tall ship

Drifting gently from the shore

Time is like a fair wind

With a lifetime to explore

The beauty that surrounds you

Was meant to be adored

The problems that surround you

Were meant to be ignored

We are love, we are, we are love

We are love, we are, we are love

I dreamt I held a baby

I dreamt I held a child

I dreamt I held a young man

A prisoner in my hand

My hand I could not open

The man grew up inside

A prisoner without reason

Just on the other side

We are love, we are, we are love

We are love, we are, we are love

The blood red rose of summer

Grows elegant and tall

In memory of the green grass

Beyond the guardian wall

The green grass grows forever

Beneath the bloody sky

In memory of the martyrs

She'll cover when they die

We are love, we are, we are love

We are love, we are, we are love

August again...

I wish I could do something to prevent this from happening. I wish I could control it somehow. But it seems I just can’t. I didn’t start this month feeling too well, but it wasn’t too bad either. WWII was far from my mind. I should already know that you can’t forget your past lives. When everything seems peaceful and is going smoothly, they strike again.

It was quite unexpected. I was dozing off on the sofa, tired after a weekend with lack of sleep and loud music until 3 a.m., four nights in a row, due to local celebrations. Suddenly, I noticed the heavy weight on my heart again, the desire to cry, the feelings of loss and emptiness, the fear and the anxiety. Then I got some blurred flashes of what looked like a bombing in a building with high ceilings, maybe a church, though I am not sure. There was dust in the air, making me cough. I crouched, frightened, among the rubble, the stones. I tried to move them but my fingers ached. I only wanted to go out.

A bit later I saw myself lighting up some candles with a stick, in a church. No idea if it could have been the same church.

I felt it was 1942, before Johann’s death, but not too long before. I think I was still hoping to see him again, hoping he would have the comfort I needed so much, to cope with the sad events that had happened to me of late. I had tried to tell him in my letters, but I didn’t want him to be concerned about me. He was fighting in the front, he didn’t need distractions. I didn’t know I would never see him alive again.

Since then, I feel like there’s a stone slab on my shoulders. No images, no memories, come to me through meditation, but I only need to think a bit about it and my eyes fill with tears. It’s like I am still losing him, losing it all: my hopes, my strength, my sanity, my will to live... my life. Once more, I feel like I am paralyzed in that beach, with so much rage inside of me, so much pain, but unable to utter a word.

Katrina keeps crying silently, through me. She doesn’t understand the world she’s living in. She doesn’t know what to do to stop so much suffering. She still breathes, but she died the day Johann died. 

Hopeless.

I have started this month of August feeling a bit weird. I have come to suspect that every time I feel trapped in my present, without hopes of doing what I really want to do in the job scenario, and slowly sinking in a depression I don’t want, I start to get in a past life mood from my Black Widow life. It wouldn’t be too bad if it was just me and myself, my thoughts, fantasies, emotions and dreams. I could spend a few days lost in my own world, barely talking and pretending I’m interested in some TV show or movie while I stare at the screen, lost in some old scenes coming from my mind and not from the TV set. Then I would decide it’s enough and I would be back in the real world, as if nothing had happened. But it’s not that easy when those past life emotions affect your relationship with your partner, who doesn’t understand why all of a sudden you don’t want to go out or don’t care about the plans for the weekend.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, I’m just imagining myself in an old bathtub thinking how to slit my wrists, as I got married and this is not what I thought it would be”.

And if he demands some attention it’s even worse, as then he makes me feel as an enslaved wife whose only duty is to make him happy... and that triggers me even more. I go to bed thinking the slight discomfort in my right eye could be due to a reflection of my past life when I got it black. As I fall asleep I can only see the white gown I was wearing in my wedding night. I can still feel the fear of a maiden, the bitterness of a young girl who liked a different suitor, my heart pierced with his first threats. And it seems all this is because the prospect of being “just a wife” for the rest of my life brings me the same feeling of hopelessness, a dark sense of foreboding that tells me “This can’t go right. Don’t let it happen again. Just run!”

Well, it looks like I can’t choose. No matter how much I try, for now my plans are always unattainable. I don’t know whether I dream too much or my wits are not enough to make those dreams come true. Maybe the Universe is punishing me for being evil with my past life husband. In this case I wonder how the Universe is punishing him for being a son of a bitch with me. No need to say I don’t believe in any of these possibilities. Or maybe I chose a crappy country and a crappy profession to ensure I would remain unemployed for half of my life, so that I learn to be imprisoned in my own home and feel happy for being a great cook. Is that something worth learning? No need to say I don’t believe that’s the point. Whatever it is though, the Universe can’t prevent me from wanting to escape through a window again.

It’s hard to come back to reality and remember things are different today: my partner is not a monster and I’m not a victim of female roles or a sexist society. It’s hard to remember I just find myself in certain circumstances and it’s my decision to deal with them one way or the other. Sometimes it feels right to have the wisdom of several past lives on my shoulders. But other times I just feel tempted to follow the same path of self-destruction. When I've become tired of what the world can offer me, does it matter if I decide to get off, even if it's just for a little while?