Here is a fun concept. Often, it is said that the style of our birth is how we make our transitions, big and small, in life. My birth challenged my young mum.I hung around in her womb hinting that I was almost ready to be born, but I just wouldn’t let go.
Finally, Mum, starving, ate a hearty dinner therein
Saint Vincent’s Hospital in Vancouver. And in minutes,I popped out. “You made me vomit my dinner!”she would storm when I would be running through the kitchen underfoot, moving way too quickly for her to catch.
Always the disrupter when truth remained unspoken and silences weighted the atmosphere—that was me. With sudden and dramatic changes consistent throughout my life,I continued to birth more and more new phases of self. Wandering. Wondering.Vague. Just wouldn’t let go. Then finally, sudden changes express themselves — changes that might startle my friends,but changes birthed from as low crock pot or a kind of womb in the nether reaches of my mind.
Saint Vincent’s Hospital in Vancouver. And in minutes,I popped out. “You made me vomit my dinner!”she would storm when I would be running through the kitchen underfoot, moving way too quickly for her to catch.
Always the disrupter when truth remained unspoken and silences weighted the atmosphere—that was me. With sudden and dramatic changes consistent throughout my life,I continued to birth more and more new phases of self. Wandering. Wondering.Vague. Just wouldn’t let go. Then finally, sudden changes express themselves — changes that might startle my friends,but changes birthed from as low crock pot or a kind of womb in the nether reaches of my mind.
Taken from my book, My Near Life Experience, the forward.
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