We are all wounded children. Deeply traumatized—with few exceptions. Here on Earth, there are no true adults; everyone remains a child at heart. All the members of parliament, government officials, ministers, journalists, and TV personalities—the ones who watch us—are, at their core, wounded children.
The mask or identity we were forced to adopt in childhood to maintain a pseudo-connection with our parents continues to operate within and through us, shaping our lives often without our awareness.
In childhood, this mask, identity, or role was a vital survival tool. We had to suppress our feelings, certain personality traits, and the pain of self-betrayal, because facing them every moment would have been unbearable.
Very few parents in the world are truly awake, conscious, and attentive; only a handful genuinely know and unconditionally love their children—with all their quirks and qualities.
In our youth, we were compelled to repress what we disliked and to adopt traits that pleased our parents—traits that now seem inherently ours, but are merely our mask, our identity, or our role.
Since most of us never felt physically or emotionally contained, we sought comfort in our mind, forging an intimate relationship with it. The primary job of our “mind” is to protect us and distract us from emotional pain—the kind that, for a child, feels life-threatening.
Unfortunately, this leads to much suffering, as it prevents us from developing naturally and freely, from truly connecting with ourselves and others.
We have lost touch with our bodies, our feelings, and our inner guides—such as intuition, inspiration, and heart intelligence—believing that everything can be solved and understood by the mind alone.
Thus, we resort to survival strategies and compensations in an effort to fill an insatiable inner void that the external world will never satisfy.
