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Live More Than You Exist

Live More Than You Exist

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Live More Than You Exist

100 página
1 hora
Jan 27, 2019


In this compact yet immensely powerful book, the author reveals the secrets of the Universal Laws, understanding and application of which will easily lead the readers to living a life of their dreams.

Jan 27, 2019

Sobre el autor

Ethan Michael Carter is a screenwriter (Warner Bros, Marvel, Disney), ghostwriter, and success coach. Having trained for over 20 years with some of the pioneers in the fields of manliness, psychology, and relationships, Ethan now shares his knowledge and unique outlook through books, seminars, and private coaching sessions. For more information or to contact Ethan, visit LiveMoreThanYouExist.com

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Live More Than You Exist - Ethan Michael Carter



I stood beside the brook and let my surroundings wrap themselves around me, warming me in a blanket of their calmness.

The water was a fragile hue of turquoises that fluctuated from deep to feint; much like the light sweeps of a painters brush. As it seeped and sneaked smoothly past all obstacles, the aqua even managed to hurdle the rivers boulders too. Twigs span freely as they moved along the liquid carpet; tracing a path from where they were now, right back to the mountain trees from which they originated. The brook flowed over the pebbled riverbed and sounded airy, loud and busy.

In the background, the mountains stood silently, touching the sky with their high-reaching majesty. And upon their lofty peaks lay peppered snow, delivered by nature to form elegant halos around the jagged heights.

From an expansive gash in a nearby rock face, a waterfall flowed without end. It looked like a continuous slide of silky-blue that decorated the mountain; highlighted only by the ice crystals that hemmed the water with silver. A distant and heavy sound emanated from the waterfall, sounding like the steady and continuous roll of a hundred drums. Glinting with eye-squinting brightness, the slide of water generously fed the river.

To say I was in awe, would be an understatement.

Taking in a breath of perspective, I looked back at the swirling brook. The run off from the ice made it appear varnish clear, and the surface glinted as if dream dust had been scattered over it; giving the water a glassy clarity.

My concentration flickered as some speckled trout drifted under the shady eaves of the bank, flicking their tails with elegant ease. Each time a fly happened to come to close, the trout would explode out of the water with dynamic efficiency. I could see them in almost slow motion, arcing in the air with their glistening bodies, performing their personal ballet in the river; all before landing back in the water with a plunking sound, before darting to the shadowy depths below, with their catch already stored safely within their bellies. The symphony and grace of the water seemed magical to me in that very brief, yet very meaningful, moment.

It was a beautiful moment, but I had no idea where I was.

I did not know where I was, but I knew what I was, I was dead.

This beautiful place was what I call the Other Realms.

This was not my first time here. I had been to this realm many times. Back in the material world where I had come from, I had been suffering from brain aneurisms. I had had many episodes, some had been severe enough to cause brain bleeds and ruptures. These ruptures and bleeds on the brain had sometimes been so severe that they had caused my organs to shut down, and for me to die.

In total I had suffered 8 of these deaths so far.

Most of them would bring me to a huge house located by a hillside in what looked like Southern California, but was obviously not. I knew this, as whenever I would leave that huge house, the inhabitants of the area were beings with faces made of light.

Light would emanate from every one of their orifices, and the light was as bright as car headlights, forcing me to avoid looking directly at them for too long.

On my first few visits, this would cause me great fear and discomfort. But by the 5th visit, I became accustomed to talking to these beings comfortably, if not casually, by addressing their chest regions as opposed to their faces.

The beings themselves looked like we did. Clothed, and with distinct personalities.

I guess some people would call them Spirits or Angels but I prefer the term Souls or Realmers.

One of these Realmers was a man... a being... called Caleb.

He stood tall at well over 6 feet tall, maybe even 7 feet. He wore a black T-shirt, partially covered by the unbuttoned black and white plaid half sleeve shirt that he wore over it. He wore blue, well worn and raggedy, jeans. And despite the fact that he wore a pair of black, and very common looking, work boots; he seemed to walk with the strength and purpose of a king.

Caleb was well muscled, and his forearms revealed lean and sinewy definition. Both of his forearms were decorated by a mix of scars and black tribal tattoos; tattoos that played off strikingly against the natural whiteness of his skin. His brown hair was of medium length, combed but not neat. His face—when I could stand to look at the light that he emanated long enough—revealed an unkept stubble of browny grey. And Calebs voice was deep and as raggedy as his jeans. It was an American accent, one that was laced with the rhythm of the South. Calebs demeanor was angry, with ‘gritty’ as his main setting. Yet his prickly personality occasionally gave way to a dark—almost endearing—sense of humor.

Time means little between this world and the next. Our concept of time, with our belief that it is linear, this concept is both laughable and simplistic when compared to the Universal understanding that souls in the Other Realms have. In a lot of ways, our concepts feel like child's play to them. Our greatest theories seem like the musings of children having tea parties with imaginary friends, and with just as imaginary food. But, just as we would humor a child, the Other Realmers view us with love and compassion; with an understanding of our misconceptions that is enlightening.

Each time I had died in our Earthly physical realm, my heart had stopped between 3 to 7 minutes (our time) However each of those minutes here, had felt like weeks to me there; weeks that I had spent in the Other Realms. This in itself also helped me to reinforce my belief and understanding of how time is in fact not as linear as we think. We think moments pass, or we wait for them to take place. But in truth, moments—every last one of them—are in a constant flow and fluctuation of being. The past, present and future are simultaneously in existence.

Caleb was a warrior Soul. And one that could appear to me in any way that he chose to.

I had not known this on our first meeting and this fact was introduced to me in a very harsh and painful way. Before meeting Caleb, I had encountered Realmers of peace and tranquillity. Each previous death experience that had brought me to this realm, had brought me into contact with warmth, compassion, fun and laughter from the Realmers I had met.

But my first meeting with Caleb was very different. On my first meeting with him, I found myself in a fight with him. I had no choice in the battle, and no part in its instigation. He saw me, and before I could say anything, his left hook introduced itself to my chin. The force of the blow floored me instantly, I felt like I had head-butted a wall. I scrambled to my feet and dizzily tried talking to him again,

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