Emotional Contagion

Most people think emotions are personal.

Private. Internal. Something that “happens inside you.”

They’re wrong.

Emotions are collective. We interact way more through emotions than actual words and actions. The subconscious mind picks up on them and translates them as vibes and intuition we register—or mostly ignore.

Emotions are energetic transmissions. Information packets moving through the field far beyond the constraints of time, space, and individual bodies. What we call emotional contagion is not metaphorical. It is literal.

You already know this. You’ve seen it.

Children in a room together, perfectly fine until one melts down—then suddenly they’re all dysregulated, feeding off each other’s escalation. Kids becoming reactive and chaotic next to fighting parents, even when they can’t understand the words being said. They’re not reacting to the content. They’re responding to the field.

Someone walks into a room and the entire dynamic shifts before they’ve said a word. The energy changes. People reorient. The mood recalibrates around their presence.

Or this: a friend trauma dumps on you for an hour. They leave lighter, suddenly energized, practically skipping away. You’re left drained, listless, like something was siphoned out of you. Because it was.

The energy acts like osmosis—moving from areas of high concentration to low, seeking equilibrium. The person carrying heavy emotional load releases it into your clearer field. Your system absorbs it, trying to balance the gradient.

And here’s what makes it even more interesting: proximity is optional.

The contagion travels through phone calls and text messages. You can feel the shift in someone’s field through a screen, through their voice on the line, through the energy embedded in their words.

But it goes further than that.

Even without any type of contact—no call, no message, no physical presence—thoughts and emotions felt in complete isolation will travel through the field and can be registered by the target person. You think of someone intensely, and they text you. You feel suddenly heavy with someone else’s grief, and later discover they were having a breakdown at that exact moment.

Distance is irrelevant. The field doesn’t operate on proximity. It operates on connection, attention, and resonance.*

_{*If you need peer-reviewed scaffolding for this: Dean Radin’s double-slit experiments demonstrate that focused attention affects quantum systems at a distance. HeartMath Institute’s research shows measurable heart-rate coherence between isolated subjects. The mechanism I’m describing operates on similar principles—attention and emotional resonance create entanglement regardless of physical separation.}

Once you learn to read it, everything changes.

This was a milestone realization for me. A before-and-after point. Nothing worked the same way again.

The Architecture of Emotion

Here’s the chain:

Belief → Thought → Energy → Emotion → Feeling → Sensation → Message

Beliefs exist first—the underlying operating system. Beliefs generate thoughts. Thoughts calibrate energy, putting it into motion. This is what emotion literally is: energy in motion.

The body receives the energy transmission in the form of emotion and registers it as sensation.

But many people have learned to live only in their heads. They’ve become fearful of emotions—specifically the feeling sensations of pain that come with low-frequency emotions. So they cut themselves off from their bodies entirely.

This translates as ungroundedness and dissociation. They’re still transmitting and receiving emotional data, but they’ve severed the feedback loop that would let them process it.

The energy continues to move in the field, carrying embedded information about the originating thought, the belief structure, the intention (conscious or unconscious), the relational target.

Emotion is not just something you have.

It is something you send and receive.

Emotions Are Like Emails

This is the metaphor that unlocked everything for me:

Emotions are like emails. They vanish once opened and read.

They are sent with content. They have metadata. They have a sender, a subject line, and an intended destination.

When an emotion is received and decoded, it dissolves. Just like an email disappears from the inbox once opened and read.

But most people never learned how to open them.

So they walk around with unread grief, unopened anger, archived shame, forwarded fear. The inbox fills. The system slows. Sensitivity drops. Numbness sets in.

And eventually, people say: “I don’t feel anything anymore.”

No—you feel everything. You’re just buried under unopened mail.

The Body Is the Inbox, Not the Mind

You can be cognitively oblivious and still have the body spam-filtering emotion for you.

Tension headaches and stiff shoulders. These are subject lines.

Learning to reverse-engineer them is faster than talk therapy and more reliable than muscle testing. Tension headaches, stiff shoulders—that’s anger energy, hot energy rising to the upper parts of our bodies and getting stuck. What we call stress often has to do with unprocessed anger and frustration. The muscles in the shoulders, neck, and head are super tense and don’t let energy or blood flow. It expresses as headaches.

In my experience, people who have shallow breath have a lot of sadness in their system. Have you ever noticed how much the lungs hurt and burn when we really, truly cry—actually sob and release lots of fluid? The body knows what it’s holding. You just have to learn its language.

The body registers what the mind refuses to acknowledge. It’s not being dramatic. It’s being literal.

The Plasma Field

I experience emotion not as something contained in people, but as a plasma-like substance that permeates fields. It’s almost tactile—you could nearly touch it if your hands knew how to reach.

It forms the mood of a person. A room. A house. A city. Sometimes an entire country.

It’s thick or light. Sticky or fluid. Charged or inert.

And it is made largely of unprocessed emotional transmissions—emails that were sent, received, but never opened.

They don’t disappear. They float.

This is what some traditions call loosh, sdrib, residual psychic matter. Unopened emotional transmissions floating in the field like energetic sludge.

To someone who can sense it, it doesn’t feel like emotion anymore. It feels like goo. Static. Pressure. Density. Contamination.

Information that isn’t processed becomes noise.

The Drift of Unopened Mail

Unprocessed emotional emails don’t just stay with the sender. They drift through literal and quantum space and begin to attach.

Not only to the person—but to their pets and plants, who often try to help metabolize the excess. To clothing. To bedding. To pillows, couches, seats. To objects that spend long hours in proximity to a nervous system.

Pets take on a lot of the issues of the person they’re with. That’s why we have emotional support animals—they can help metabolize the negative energies someone is generating. But there’s only so much they can do. Some of us would be appalled to realize what we put our pets through by creating unhealthy environments with lots of unprocessed toxic emotions.

Our ruminations, victimhoods, gossip, bitterness, and anger are like energetic darts spreading from us and hurting those around us. Even if you’re mad at someone and don’t tell them and try not to feel mad, or actively gossiping and ruminating, the emotion will generate around your field and contaminate your field and your surroundings.

Kids, pets, plants, our loved ones—they all receive it. Especially people with compromised auras are extra sensitive. Children take a few years to fully mature their auras and protection shields.

The house becomes an archive. The furniture remembers. The room develops a mood that wasn’t there before.

Objects Are Thumb Drives

Second-hand clothing and furniture carry the signature of the people who used them before.

I get immediate headaches and fatigue if I enter second-hand shops. I take on the emotions of the person who sat on the same couch before me when I show up with clean energy.

This is osmosis at work. A clean field absorbs contamination from saturated objects and spaces.

You can sage and smoke the area or the furniture. Or put them in the sun.

Sunshine, especially in the morning time where the sunrays haven’t been tampered with by lots of negative emotings, can clear the field. That’s why I live in California, where there is lots and lots of sunshine.

The plasma isn’t sentimental. It just sticks to any material or hangs in the room, but usually moves from person to person.

The more unprocessed negative emotion floats around, the more it interacts with the person and everyone they encounter—like a shadow plasma, an externalized personal unconscious.

It drains. It contaminates. It spreads sideways.

On an individual level, this looks like “my stuff.” On a collective level, it becomes the collective unconscious—the sum of unprocessed emotions floating around a group of people, constantly being added to.

Same mechanism. Different scale.

Collective Weather Fronts

Once we treat collective events as shared weather, personal symptoms dissolve. Trying to process it as “my trauma” is like opening an umbrella during a hurricane and calling it progress.

The collective unconscious isn’t abstract. It has symptoms. It has weather patterns. And if you’re sensitive enough, you become a barometer.

Field Sensitivity Is Not a Gift Basket

People who become field-sensitive feel very emotional through the contamination. If you’re not aware, you could just spend your whole life absorbing and acting out everyone’s emotions around you.

A strong auric field is an indication of strong boundaries and strong chakras—the energetic transmitters and receivers of emotions. If someone has injuries to their field or their chakras, the field becomes porous and the energetic goo or collective unconscious can seep through, giving someone very strong negative sensations.

I believe that people who are Highly Sensitive People, ADHD, codependent, or have trauma have a weakened auric field and are exposed—like a weakened immune system. They can feel it most strongly. They are forced to become empaths and try to regulate with a bunch of different meds or tools, but the energetic mechanism is the same.

Empaths like myself are in a strange position. If we don’t clean our energy, we draw everyone’s contaminations around us into our own field and suffer for them. Or we have to continually clean and transmute the energy. Or we have to isolate.

I isolated for about 4 years.

As I strengthen my field and learn to pinpoint the energy, things are getting easier and I can interact again. But I have to be very picky who I spend my time with, or intentionally take it on and do my process of clearing and recovery after. I’ve only met one other person who has it as severe as I do, but I’ve experienced a lot of people who are experiencing this in varying degrees.

The body interprets this as extreme exhaustion, migraines, nervous system overload, attention fragmentation, brain fog that looks like ADHD, immune stress and illness.

They are registering data most people are numb to.

Empathy Is Literacy, Not Just Sensitivity

What people call “being an empath” is often just illiteracy without boundaries.

True empathic ability is decoding better.

You can use your mind to consciously figure out what sensations mean. Reverse engineer: Message → Sensation → Feeling → Emotion → Thought → Belief.

This is how I work with people in real time. I remain open and attentive to the messages I receive from my client as they speak to me. I wait for sensations in my body and identify the feeling of the emotion coming at me as they speak about a certain issue. I can then pinpoint the unconscious thoughts that triggered the emotion and deduce the belief that led to the thought.

Then I go about asking questions and negotiating with their subconscious mind during hypnosis or their conscious mind during coaching sessions until their old belief is understood as nonsensical or harmful—and allow the person to choose a better “feeling” belief more in alignment with who they authentically are.

But I can go about this whole process with a stranger interacting with me or in casual conversation. As soon as I can pinpoint the thought behind the emotional contamination, I can clear it out of my system and theirs.

If they don’t change their belief, they will go about regenerating the same emotions over and over again until they do. But for the time being, I’ve lessened their burden and don’t have to carry their baggage with me to wreak havoc in my system.

This is essentially being a telepath at this point. A tel-empath, as Bashar likes to call it.

Empathy is the ability to receive emotional information, trace it back to its origin, identify the thought behind it, recognize the belief that shaped it, and clear it without personalizing it.

And this doesn’t stop with humans.

You can be empathic with animals, plants, land, objects, systems, spaces, timelines, collective fields.

My Daily Work: Metabolism, Not Shielding

A large part of my daily work is processing contamination through attention and consciousness.

I’m learning the language of sensation. Expanding my internal vocabulary so I can tell the difference between grief residue, ancestral anxiety, ambient rage, social shame, collective despair, borrowed fear.

Once named, it can move. Once decoded, it can transmute.

Some days that means precise inner attention. Some days it’s structured energy clearing. Some days it’s “oh wow, this isn’t mine”—and letting it pass.

By the time I leave the house, the field usually feels clear. Neutral. Quiet.

Like stepping out in a white linen outfit.

Public Spaces (or: Rolling in the Goo)

Then comes the first human encounter. Or the first public seat. Or the subway. Or the café chair that has seen too much.

And it’s like rolling in mud.

The goo is immediate. It clings. It coats. It seeps into the edges of perception.

What fascinates me is this: a certain amount of contamination in one’s field protects you from the onslaught. It acts like insulation. But it also dulls your senses. You receive fewer messages. You feel less. You move slower, but safer.

Clarity, on the other hand, is porous. Clean fields feel everything. They become the low-pressure system everyone’s weather moves toward. Osmosis doesn’t stop—it just keeps seeking equilibrium between your field and everyone else’s.

Which means field sensitivity isn’t about staying clean forever—it’s about learning how to wash without hardening.

The goal is not to live in a permanent white-linen outfit. The goal is to be machine-washable: get dirty, run a quick cycle, hang in the sun, repeat.

After a while you start to enjoy the weather reports. Heavy grief front moving in from the southwest—interesting, I’ll bring tissues and an extra liver meridian rub. Joy high-pressure system—great day to write or make babies.

The forecast stops being personal. It just is.

The Rebound Effect

The cleaner your field gets, the more you become a preferred router for other people’s undelivered mail. You become the path of least resistance—the space where osmosis can happen most easily.

Expect a temporary uptick in weird dreams, random texts from exes, strangers crying in the produce aisle. The system is asking: “Can you handle volume?”

Say yes, process quickly, and the surge passes in 48–72 hours. Say no, and the insulation re-accumulates automatically—nature’s way of downgrading your bandwidth.

Literacy Curriculum

If you’re ready to start opening your emails, here’s where to begin:

a) Sensation lexicon: Write down 50 body micro-sensations and the emotion they reliably map to for you. Tightness behind the left eye. Flutter in the solar plexus. Heaviness in the right hip. Build your personal decoder ring.

b) Trace-back drill: When a sensation spikes, ask “When did this first appear today?” followed by “Who did I talk to? What did they talk about? What feelings would their thoughts generate?” The body knows. You just have to ask the right questions.

c) Presence Protocol: Inhale and exhale, while completely focussing on your sensations and feelings. Takes 90 seconds. Works in a subway car. No one can tell you’re doing it. I often do it looking in the mirror, dropping all masks, just looking at the emotions I can see on my face.

Neutrality Is Not Numbness

Once you’ve opened enough mail, you discover every emotion has a neutral charge at its core—pure information, zero story.

Grief without narrative is just energy moving downward. Anger without justification is simply acceleration.

Living in that null point feels like listening to a language you understand but no longer need to translate. You still cry, still laugh, but the lag time between stimulus and response drops to microseconds.

And nothing sticks.

Awake vs Not Awake (No Spiritual Drama Required)

The difference between “awake” and “not awake” isn’t morality, intelligence, or spirituality.

It’s this: Do you know how to open your emails?

If you don’t, emotions overwhelm you. You carry what isn’t yours. The field feels heavy. The world feels hostile.

If you do, emotions pass through. Information becomes clarity. The field cleans itself. Sensitivity becomes a skill, not a curse.

Awakening isn’t about transcending emotion. It’s about reading it.

A Public Service Announcement

Open your emails, everyone.

They’re not attacking you—they’re informing you.

And once you read them, they disappear. The goo clears. The field lightens. And suddenly, sensitivity feels like intelligence again.

And choose better feeling thoughts. Redesign your belief system. Feeling good can be practiced.

Field Note

Emotion is not the problem. Unread emotion is.

Plasma doesn’t want to harm. It wants to be understood.

From the Quantum Travel Log