Having chosen his parents the Soul returns to the earth plane with reluctance. With reluctance? Yes reluctance. For he knows there are still many events he must experience to further his Spiritual growth. Through out this lifetime he will always longingly gaze upwards to the universe, the stars, and ask the question, when can I go home? It is early in the morning when suddenly there is pressure, then intense brightness. There is incredible sound. There is the pressure of hands grasping tiny little feet, the feeling of motion, then pain. Quick intense pain as the doctor smacks the newborn on the bum. Then a startling new sound, escapes his tiny lungs, and the little soul has just been welcomed to life in the earth plane by pain once again. He is shown quickly to his birth mother, and then whisked away to be cleaned up, wrapped up, and deposited into a clear plastic container. Separation, then darkness falls, he sleeps. It is only many years later I find out from my father that after I was born, my mom, my dad, take me home to begin to start their life anew. My father is of Austrian descent, my mother, of German descent. I guess that makes me whatever people will decide to label me. At this point I’m so young it doesn’t matter to me. To me I am a Soul with Spirit. I know this from day one. However, no one else seems to recognize this important fact. Have they forgotten? Do they care? I PANIC! I cannot sleep. Remember Me! Don’t you remember me? Apparently not. I cry. I don’t sleep. I drive my mother to the brink of exhaustion and insanity. I think my father is simply overwhelmed by the whole situation. He takes me back to the hospital, so that my mother and he can finally attempt to grasp at sanity, at sleep. It is now three days later. My father tells me, my mother couldn’t handle being with out me anymore. My father comes to the hospital to retrieve me. For the life of me I cannot remember any thing about those three days apart from my mother. By the time my father picked me up I could hardly make a sound. The nurses apparently tell him I have spent the entire three days crying. Oh God! I’m back again. What have I not learned? What did I forget, or not get right the last time round? Of course this important information is all forgotten very quickly. The programming by the outside world, father, mother, and other people is very quick to start. It will take me forty-two years of pain and struggle to figure this out. All I remember after this point are brief flashes of childhood memory. I’m perhaps three or four years old, I’m scared, I have no control over what is happening in this moment. I stand in the bathroom entrance. It looks so big. The air, the energy, is thick, heavy, and ominous. My dad and mom are facing each other. They are yelling at each other. Mom is crying, angry, yelling. Dad is angry, yelling. I try to say something. I can’t. It is as if I am invisible and they don’t see me. The anger, yelling escalates, they are both grabbing each other shaking each other, the anger, hatred, like a heavy mist covers me, and I am frozen in time. I love them both. I do not understand what is happening. Why they are doing this bad thing to each other. I am being inadvertently programmed. Thirty years later this scenario will replay itself in my own life. I am lying down in the back seat of my dad’s car. I think I’m five years old. Or perhaps it is only a few days, weeks, and months later. As a child everything happens in the moment. I have my eyes closed, resting, snoozing. I am dressed up. I think it’s my moms or some one else’s birthday. I don’t know, it is some form of celebration; there are flowers beside me on the seat. I listen to my parent’s voices, I love the sound of those you love talking, sharing their thoughts. My dad is telling my mom how to drive. I think he is actually teaching her to drive, I’m not sure; Suddenly dads voice starts to become louder, but not as loud as the sound of garbage cans being crashed into. I think mom has backed into them. The yelling starts, again, the flowers are now all over the backseat and me. In the intense argument that follows I once again become invisible. I say nothing; I try to squeeze myself tighter into the seat. I try to imagine I am not there and this is not happening. One morning I wake up and everything has changed. Dad is in the kitchen and I wander in to have breakfast. Mom is not there. Mom is nowhere in the house. Mom is gone. What happened? I now live with my dad. It is only the two of us. My dad has been divorced from my mom. I see mom once in awhile, but not very often. I start to cling more and more to my dad. Will I lose him to? Natural love of the parent is starting to be replaced by childhood gifts, toys. My mom when I see her buys me toys. My dad buys me toys. This is great everyone is buying me toys. I learn quickly. I learn to manipulate my mom and my dad. I learn to play one against the other. I learn to try and fill the void I have inside my heart with outside experiences, right now at the age of five or six that means toys. Toys, toys, more toys, but still no full time mom. What I’ve learned from these events. The feelings of loss and separation from my mother at such an early age definitely laid the ground work of what I would say was an inexhaustible quest through out my life to seek the appreciation of all the woman I deemed important in my life. I have now realized that almost every woman I met and had an attraction to I place on a pedestal. It is the quest of trying to prove to them that I am worthy to receive their love and support. However, once the love and support are given to me, I immediately start to jeopardize the relationship. The programming of what I experienced at such a young age was so strongly ingrained into my mind and at that age I simply did not know how to protect myself against it. When a child, is a voyeur to any sought of violence or unrest at such a young age they have no way of discerning why this is all happening before them, or to the people in their lives. Their mind is like a sponge, soaking up all they see, hear, and feel. These scenes are for the rest of their adult lives imprinted in their minds and emotions. Even though the events have nothing to do with them personally they feel they are responsible for them. They feel it is their entire fault. It doesn’t matter if they are told it is not their fault. They will always believe it was, until their Soul awakens and realizes, remembers, that they were their simply as observers. Nothing more, nothing less. I was the witness of two other Souls; in this case my mother and father interacting in their souls journey. There is a very good reason why children are so hard hit and affected by adverse events. The reason is that when we return we still remember who and what we really are, which is spirit and soul. You as Soul know that the greatest gift we are born with is love. It is born out of creation and the love of life. All we understand is love, and the sharing of that love. That is why when we as children encounter very bad things in our lives such as other souls mistreating each other or us, we (our Souls) simply cannot comprehend that other souls are capable of doing, saying, such awful things to each other. We begin to place labels on everything others or we do to each other. That is the human way of explaining things, events, and circumstances in their lives. It is NOT the way Souls deal with the same events. My father gets a divorce. I live with him. No matter what he tells me in my growing years of why he and my mom got divorced, I for a long time will always believe it was my fault, they separated; What really happened I probably will never truly know, for my father has never given me the full reasons why he decided to separate, and out of respect for my mother, for she is not here to voice her opinion, I may never know the complete truth. Does it matter? No not really. I hold no ill will to either of them, I still love them both; I realize and bless them both for letting me be the witness in their Souls journeys at that time. Although what I witnessed and learned inadvertently at that young an age and myself would one day repeat in my own life with my own children, would become a monumental Soul awakening experience for myself. That is why I bless them for everything I experienced. It does not mean that what they did to each other was right or wrong. It just was. I only hope the lessons their souls needed to learn were learned by them.
