Happy Birth Day

On the morning of my birthday, as I wrote the date in my journal, habit took over. Instead of writing 2012, I wrote 1956. I decided to go with the flow…

Dear Mama,

Today you are going to give birth to me. You may not know it yet, though obviously you realize my arrival is imminent.

I’m guessing you are scared. I am too.

There is also excitement as my soul prepares to once again take on a body.

Interesting concept just passed across my mind: did I allow a walk-in to take my place all those years ago? Fifty-six to be exact. Did I perhaps say…

Okay you, anxious one who wants to experience Earth, I’ll share this vehicle with you. How long would you like possession?

Let’s see… it is 1956, so how about 56 years and 19 minutes?

That means that come the stroke of midnight Sept 8, 2012, exactly 19 minutes after Debra’s birth-time, you will step aside, and I, the true soul essence of Debra will return.

So what if this was true? What if today, Sept 7, 2012 were my last day as the “me” I know. How would I live this day differently?

Would I still have the facial; soak up the pampering touch of another? Yes, that’s a keeper.

And lunch with my daughter stays as well, even though the drive back and forth over the mountain isn’t the most exciting way to spend two hours of the day.

What I could do without is the weekly team check-in call re: software clients. Though I suppose I could use that time to connect into my heart; to anchor into my soul’s essence as I know it now. I can slip into bliss and simply radiate beingness. It’s a yummy practice and I was just talking yesterday about holding this space of awareness all the time as a primary “ahhhh” point.

So back to you dear mama…

I know… you don’t like being called that. But that’s what feels good to my heart.

I’m coming into this world as a helpless human being—not a helpless spirit mind you—and I’m trusting my physical care to you.

Because I’m on the other end of this fifty-six year spectrum, I know how it plays out.

Yet perhaps the toxic emotions held in relationship to your choices—the bitterness, the resentment, and yes, even the fear of life itself—perhaps those can be lightened.

Perhaps instead we can infuse my entrance into the world with joy and celebration and trust. Trust that all is divinely held, especially when it seems most dark.

So mama, I offer you these thoughts stretched out over the bridge of time:

Remember the moist rich beginnings of life.
Relax into the flow.
Breathe.
Expand.
Contract.

Allow the miracle of me to pass through you in whatever way serves our two souls highest learning here in this body-based Earth school.

Thank you for being my portal.

Love and blessings,

Your soon-to-be daughter

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We Must Keep Meeting Like This

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