I feel like I came to this earth with all the knowledge I’d ever need, and no access to it. When people tell us to remember, they mean it literally because we truly are trying to recall, to retrieve, information we once had. I think we will be shocked when we get to the next life and realize that we truly had all the information within us and we spent our lives trying to tap into our encased souls. I can feel my mind when it reaches its capacity saying ‘no, you can’t think this, you won’t be able to comprehend it, its too much’ I can feel it when my spirit is trying so hard to escape my body, to elevate to something worthier and my ever fragile body anchors it to the earth, tells it to sit still and settle for what it has rather than what it could be. I can feel when I am on the edge of a thought so profound it feels as if it would transport me to the world it originated from. I catch glimpses of my soul's capacity to love, to change, to grow and yet I feel so trapped, so encompassed by mortality and all its conjunctive shortcomings. The older we get, the more we grow, the more we are able to see our own souls, our souls that our bodies may not necessarily be worthy of viewing. How strange is that? Perhaps that is the origination of the dual nature of man. While our soul wants so badly to be whole, our body whispers, insists, and is obnoxiously persistent: you’re only human, what is spectacular about that? How odd it is to think that we are housing two separate beings. With separate drive and idiosyncratic comings and goings. I want so badly to shake my body of its mortality. I’m not speaking of death but of understanding. It’s all there and I can feel my anxiety when I get close. I want so badly to have access to that knowledge I know I could potentially have the capacity to understand. We indeed spend most of our lives simply trying to remember what we have forgotten.