I remember



I remember what it was like before I was born. I only started to remember this for the first time a couple months ago. I remember going down a long, thin line, like going down a zip line. I could see earth getting closer and closer. I was very excited, exhilarated, giddy, buoyant, full of energy and joy, anticipation. Then I was in a dark tunnel sliding down very fast.

I remember what I kept telling myself as I saw the earth quickly getting closer and closer. I kept reminding myself to remember just one thing: Love. I had a bit of a dialogue with myself, trying to refresh my memory over and over until the very last second when I knew I would enter the world and amnesia would take over.

The dialogue went something like this: “Just be love. Love. Be who you really are. Fear isn’t love, so just be love. It’s easy! You can do this! You will arrive in the form of a chubby, happy baby, and you will make a difference, you will bring joy and change down below. Your father even now favors a beastly religion and might be abusive and horrible, but it isn’t set in stone. Things can change, and you will help to make things change. Who can resist a laughing baby? You will have a good start. You picked a mother who will definitely nurture you, be on your side, and will help give you a healthy, loving start. You picked a challenge, and you wanted a challenge, but as long as you remember this one thing, love, you will be a ball of light, a joy in a dark family, one who speaks up and shines love and melts the hardest of hearts.

“You picked a family where your father will be the kind of personality that might scare the socks off of a sensitive soul like you, if you don’t remember who you are. If you forget who you are, you will be lonely and will want his approval desperately, and you’ll be tempted to do what he requires to get approval, which is to cut yourself off from that inner part of you that affirms that you are love. Are you sure you want this family?”

I remember the dialogue before I chose my life. I remember the side detours they warned me would be there if I forgot. I remember how they told me he would favor joining a cult, and that I would be naturally sucked into it if I didn’t remember who I was. That the cult would be rife with beliefs that would lead to abuse, control, fear, shame, guilt, oppression, and possibly sickness. I knew the risks, and I knew there was also a chance my mom wouldn’t protect us, that I would be possibly the only one to shine the light. There was a backup if  I wasn’t up for the challenge… the sister following me would take up the slack and be the bubble of joy that would take on the mission with me or for me. I knew all this when I was plummeting downwards and the earth grew larger and larger.

But I put that dialogue out of my mind and kept reminding myself: Be love. Just be love. Love. Love. I am love. I am so light and joyous and full of grand anticipation! Who can resist a loving, chubby baby full of laughter and love? This should be a piece of cake!”

One of my last thoughts before amnesia struck was, “This is going to be either my easiest life, or my most difficult.”

Then I was born. I remember laying on a scale getting weighed, and I didn’t like how quickly they whisked me away from my mother. It was an easy birth, and I knew it would be. My mom has the personality of a Golden Retriever… loyal, gentle, loving, kind. Her autopilot is love, nurturing, and calmness, in the same way that breathing is a natural state for the rest of us. She didn’t have to think or try, it was who she naturally was. That is why I picked her before birth to be my mom. Up in the place where I came from, where we all come from, they called her and others like her “Earth Angels.” True, earth angels can get tripped up, and can get suckered in by people with low energy vibrations who take advantage of their compassion and attach themselves like energy vampires or parasites. Such as what happened eventually with her and my father. But I digress. I interviewed many potential mothers before I chose one, but knew I definitely wanted her as my mom. I knew I would need her as a buffer. I congratulated myself after I was born for picking such an awesome mom… the birth was such a smooth process. Although, like I mentioned, I didn’t like being pulled away from her so quickly to be weighed.

My memories dim after this. I have a few more goofy memories from when I was a few months old. I remember being enraged at the thought that I would have to wait 2-3 years to get proper control of my arms and legs. I thought my spastic baby motions were embarrassing, and I spent hours each afternoon after waking from my naps trying to control my hands and fingers, as they were closest to my face. I would line up each finger fastidiously with the corresponding one on the other hand, then take each apart. Until my mom discovered this and made a huge deal out of it. She thought I was either a genius, or was special in a not so good way, and this scared me. Although I hated my lack of body control, I disliked more the negative connotation of being special. So I stopped immediately my exercises. I remember looking down at my fat, jelly roll legs just laying there, with me not able to control them or get up and walk. I remember feeling so mad that I would have to “play baby” like all the other babies. “Wimps,” I thought. They really could just get up and walk, but they don’t because no one expects them to. “Disgusting. And now I’m just doing the same.”

I also remember soon after I was born, being shocked that I couldn’t use mental telepathy, and no one was communicating back this way with me. I was shocked that I had no verbal or mental communication skills. Whoa. This brought on a panic for me, especially since I was totally wrapped up in a blanket and couldn’t move, couldn’t even scratch my face. I thought it was gross to have to go in a diaper. And shocked that no one made a big deal of it. Most of all, I was at a loss because I wasn’t able anymore to just move at will up and around, through walls, through dimensions. I was stuck in that crib they put me in, and I really didn’t recall anyone telling me that this is what I signed up for when volunteering to come as a baby. I mean, really! If I had known, I might not have signed up!

Then my memories are silent up until about age 5. That is when the trauma and abuse started. Well, it was probably happening earlier than that, but I don’t have a memory of life before age 5, except as a baby. By age 5, I hadn’t exactly achieved the goal I had in mind when I chose my particular family. I remember this being a huge blow to me, even though I didn’t know at the time that it was a pre-birth goal. I just remember feeling as though the abuse and angry words around me cut like knives in my heart, and that I so wanted to heal it all, but I didn’t know how. I remember being afraid, feeling un-loveable, feeling cut off from myself, feeling mad that things weren’t turning out as I wanted. I wanted a peaceful, loving family, and I felt responsible that it wasn’t that way. But I was at a loss as to how to change it, mad that I didn’t know, and far too afraid to look inside myself for answers.

For some reason, I really thought I would stay awake and aware from birth onward, with no lapses of amnesia, or only a short period of amnesia. This didn’t happen. But, it’s not like I failed though in my life mission. For every path not taken, there will be another path, and a plethora of paths branching off of that path. My purpose in coming to earth here in my current life is to spread love and light. It always has been, but I didn’t know. What an awesome life I have!
                                                                                                                                                                [Photo credit:]                                                                         

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