Imagining My "Birth" Day

I intended to open this post with a captivating paragraph about beginning my life here 71 years ago.

I began by writing a few poignant sentences about the day of my birth. But the sentences felt overly sentimental and awkward. I deleted them.

I initially planned to start this post with a wonderful quote from an unknown author, but I decided against it.

The author of another quote I had considered is anonymous. Lord knows what the backstory might be regarding this anonymous author. Too risky.

It was a dark and stormy night… Seriously, I did contemplate breaking into my post with that one, but it has been overdone.

Besides, I was born at 5:55 in the morning. Therefore, a dark and stormy night has no relevance to the day of my birth.

Although, at the time I made my entrance into the world that late May morning in Massachusetts, it was muggy, 65 degrees, and mostly cloudy with smoke and fog.

For the record, I researched the weather information for the day of my birth at WeatherSpark.com.

Anyway, after reading about the muggy air, clouds, smoke, and fog, I envisioned that moment at the hospital.

I imagine my mother admiring her newborn daughter amid a flurry of nurses and a doctor.

With the not-so-pleasant weather and smoke and fog, I am thinking there were no windows open at the hospital. There was also no air conditioning available.

I have a feeling Mom is quite uncomfortable and, understandably, a bit cranky.

Nevertheless, she is checking me out. Perhaps she is envisioning our future together.

Would it be a peaceful life, or was I giving off a baby vibe of an impending storm?

I have a feeling I was meddling in her exhausted thoughts.

Of course, I would be doing that telepathically.

I was a newborn, so I couldn’t see her yet. Therefore, my newborn eyes were unable to gauge her initial observations of me.

I probably took my tiny infant Gemini brain for a test drive with my first telepathic communication that went something like this:

"Hey there, my brand-new mother. You probably can't figure out yet which one of us may be the storm. You might want to give it a little time. Like maybe a decade. Get some rest now. I will, too. It was a long journey for both of us."

During her observation of me, I have no doubt that my mother was already picking out my first pair of black patent leather shoes and white, frilly silk ankle socks.

I believe, too, that she was aware at the moment of my birth that as soon as I could walk, she would introduce me to the charmed world of purses.

She must have known that eventually, those little purses would hold candy, cookies, and other goodies that I could bribe my brothers with in exchange for the window seat in the car.

I seriously doubt that she could have foreseen me sneaking turkey into my little purse after a Thanksgiving dinner at our relatives' home in the city.

Spoiler alert: There would come a day when I swipe some savory white turkey from the carcass that is still on the counter, carefully wrap it in a napkin, and tuck it in my purse next to a piece of fudge and a couple of walnuts. Also stolen.

While Mom may have been daydreaming about my shiny black shoes and darling purses, she would be emotionally moved when she realized how excited my two big brothers would be to finally meet me.

From the moment of birth, a mother possesses a natural and profound understanding of her children. To the outside world, this understanding may seem quite mysterious. There is no mystery, though, to a mom.

Even at that moment, she knew me and my brothers would probably squabble. A lot.

She also knew that as I grew, there would be constant protests about me getting my way simply because I was the youngest at that time. And a girl.

My sister hasn't arrived yet. When she does arrive in about two years, it will be double the girl power in taking on older brothers. Ha!

Mom's intuition told her that my older brothers would skillfully mentor me in the ways of the world.

And her instinct gave her insight into the fact that I would be a bashful kid.

But I would quietly observe the street smarts my brothers demonstrated in case they were not around and I had to defend myself.

I bet Mom cringed a little while quashing the thought of how my brothers would tutor me in swear words.

Whether I was bashful or not, she already knew I would let fly the F-word any chance I got.

It would not matter that I was wearing frilly silk socks and little white gloves and we were on our way to church; I was going to drop the F-bomb.

However, she also understood that day, all those moons ago, that love and caring would always triumph over arguments and lessons in profanity when it came to their baby sister.

I am positive that my mother knew, during the first few minutes after my grand entrance into her life, that my brothers would forever love me, watch over me, and always protect me from harm.

I want to note something here: For as long as I can remember, I felt that I chose my parents before I dropped into this incarnation.

That concept came from a book I read long ago. At the time, I found it to be simply an intriguing concept.

But what if...

As the decades went by and my spiritual knowledge expanded, I believed in my heart that it was true.

It was a long time ago, and I don’t even remember from which book it was that I learned this information.

However, in the past few years, I have read books and viewed various videos where that idea is resurfacing. And it is a belief held by far more people than I realized.

Although I do not know yet exactly how choosing my parents beforehand might transpire, I have some provocative thoughts about it happening in a cool place in the cosmos.

I will save that for another day.

I arrived 71 years ago to embark on this current remarkable earthly adventure.

And I know this existence is not my first lifetime. However, I believe this journey to be the most significant.

Did I arrive that day in 1955, in this unique lifetime of spiritual evolution, like a dazzling, brilliant supernova that sprang from a distant galaxy?

That notion makes me smile because, yes, I do think that is how I arrived here.

What if... we all came here the same way?

And most importantly, what if... we discover that we came here to fulfill extraordinary missions?

In a future post, I will touch on my thoughts about these predestined missions.

Until next time…

Stay fearless, friends.

Photo Credit: Oner Mopo3