I was in a Zoom meeting of the Evolutionary Collective yesterday. One of our members gave birth to a boy a month ago and she was online to introduce us to the new one.

The baby was cuddled against mom’s breast as she spoke. We in the EC see an evolving future filled with souls who live in the “we” rather than the “me”. And there in front of us was a prime example. A shared silence, of awe and love, filled the room.

We did a practice welcoming the boy to the planet, wishing him a full life of connection with other human beings. It was lovely.

Later in the day, one of our members read this poem written by Khalil Gibran, a Lebanese poet who’s the author of The Prophet, one of the best-selling books of all time.

On Children

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said
“Speak to us of children”

Your children are not your children
They are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself
They come through you but not from you
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you

You may give them your love but not your thoughts
For they have their own thoughts
You may house their bodies but not their souls
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow

Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams
You may strive to be like them
But seek not to make them like you
For life goes not backward, nor tarries with yesterday

You are the bows from which your children
As living arrows are sent forth
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite
And he bends you with his might

That his arrows may go swift and far
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness
For even as he loves the arrow that flies
So he loves also the bow that is stable

***

Life in all its grandness longs for union … where you and I are entwined and yet each vividly unique.

Blessed is the bow and blessed is the arrow. May we launch the new arrivals to a new land, one that we older folks may never deeply experience.

I like remembering yesterday

I love walking into the unknown of tomorrow