Both of my children have volunteered precious memories of life pre-conception since they first began to talk~ around 18 months of age. And my heart never tires of hearing their fascinating, fluctuating recollections, or the ways they frame the mysterious journey of their souls from their current perspectives. Arayla (now 9) has always spoken of different memories of other lives in different forms. Ezra consistently and somewhat casually refers to his life “in the Stars”, sometimes speaking with amazing detail and bright-eyed nostalgia about his role as “King of The Warrior Stars.”
Earlier today, in a spontaneous moment of mama-appreciation while I was cooking for him, Ezra said effusively: "I am sooo glad I choosed you, Mama. You are the bestest Mama in the whole wide world!" Of course this melted me into a total puddle of mama-love… (after all, wasn’t it just last night that I was the ‘MEANEST mama in the whole wide world’?) I swung around from the sink to give him an equally effusive response: “I am SOOOO glad you chose me too, my Love!.” Then, after a moment's pause, I couldn’t help asking: “What was that like for you, Ezra? When you chose me to be your mom?”
He said: “From when I was still in the stars? I could see you. I knowed you then. When I was still in the stars I already knowed you.” I placed his plate of food in front of him, and said: “How did you choose me, though?” He took a bite of apple and shrugged, answering: “I just knowed. I saw you and I said: that is my mama. That is my mama. Her. Her. That one that is YOU. So I choosed you, just like that!” I leaned my elbows onto the table, towards him, and said with playful affection: “Well, you know what Ezra? I chose YOU too!” He took another bite of food, munching, then asked, earnestly: “How did you know it was me?” I said: “I dreamed of you. Over and over again. The most amazing dream.” His eyes looked out distantly into the space of memory, as he asked: “Could you see my stars in your dream, Mama?” I said: “Oh yes, I could. Your beautiful stars. The biggest one shining out from your big, beautiful heart!” He nodded, knowingly. Then looked down at his chest, lifting his little t-shirt, and said: “Um: I still got that one!” I laughed out loud: “Yes: you sure do!”
Then he asked: “And then what happened, after your dream?” I thought back to that intensely emotional time, already a mother of my then 2 year old beloved daughter Arayla Grace, as I was yearning for him, my son, so deeply, feeling his bright spirit, this huge, healing, radiant soul, calling to me, asking me if he could come and be our child. I said to him: “I woke up and said to myself: that is the soul of my son! I realized I missed you so much it made my heart ache. And I prayed that one day soon we could be together again, like this, in our bodies.” He said then: “And it came true! We choosed eachothers and then I growed inside your body and was born and got to be your Ezra Star.” I nodded: “And I got to be your Mama.”
We looked at each other, mutually reveling, mutually smitten: to choose and to be chosen, what utterly sacred luck this is.
And yet I think the truth of choice clearly transcends stories like mine with my children of a mutually conscious choosing around conception and incarnation. It certainly includes stories of adoption, where souls land in families by more mysterious, and no less sacred paths. And it includes souls who come in “by surprise”, since “choosing” happens on different levels of our beings, and within unique time-frames for everyone. And even those of us who grew up definitely NOT feeling consciously chosen, or who wondered whether we were actually even wanted, can always, in any given moment, CHOOSE consciously now, to WANT these lives we are living, to want our own selves(!), to fully receive these bodies we inhabit, however fleetingly. We can fully and truly choose these hearts through which we get to love. The choice is always here for us to choose. <3