There once was a girl who thought her heart was made of paper mache. She thought this because she could feel in her heart even the slightest shift in energy. Her heart was constantly being tossed around, torn and tattered. She did her best to protect it from the storms but her efforts only lead to the paper mache being damage from her own tears.
One day, she was sitting on the porch listening to the giggles of the children playing. The good thing about having a paper mache heart is that it's also effected by the slightest bit joy, like the sweet giggles of little ones at play. That's when she noticed the gentle breeze making beautiful music as it blew through the wind chimes.
The girl then decided that maybe it would be better to think of her heart as a wind chime instead of paper mache. Like a paper mache heart, the nature of the wind chime is to be effected by even the slighted movement. Only that the wind chime uses the shifts to create music where the paper mache is torn apart by the shifts.
"Like two golden birds perched on the selfsame tree, Intimates friends, the ego and the Self dwell in the same body. The former eats the sweet and sour fruits of the tree of life while the latter looks on in detachment." ~ Mundaka Upanishad