Old Soul

One of my mom's favorite stories to tell is about one of my younger brothers as a child. He is little, just barely walking or talking, and all of the sudden, he starts marching in a perfectly-straight line, knees up, posture-perfect, across our thick, goldenrod shag carpet. My mom, in shock, asks him what he is doing, and he answers, clear as a bell, "I was a general before this life."

As the story goes, my mom immediately dropped what she was doing and called my dad at the office, letting him know that they had Patton or MacArthur in the living room.

Years later, living just outside of Washington DC, I heard another story along these lines in our beloved prayer group. As told to me by one of the leaders of the group, friends of theirs had a toddler who would not stop climbing into the crib with his newborn sibling. Although the child meant to be sweet, it was a bit like Godzilla visiting the townspeople, so the parents had to listen to the baby monitor intently to keep it from happening. One night, they heard the oldest one thud into the crib, and as they scrambled to get to the baby, they heard the toddler ask him, "Tell me about it, I've almost forgotten it...it was so beautiful." When retrieved from the crib and asked what he was talking about, the boy simply stated, "heaven."

I can't vouch for the validity of the second story, but trust that my mom (and dad) are recounting their experience accurately. Despite the fact that what my brother was saying and doing was in direct conflict to what our faith told us was true about God and heaven and the afterlife, there he was, saying and doing it. My lesson: always understand that God is bigger than what we know, and we know very little.

When EJ was little, I watched for signs of things unknown, hoping to catch a glimpse of what little ones seem to come into the earth understanding from the start. There were a few little things, sure, but no big revelations. I thought the window to that kind of experience was closed, but at the end of May, she surprised me, once again.

Last week, when my parents came to visit, we were all sitting around the dining room table talking about the busy weekend we had had the week before. With a ballet dress rehearsal, ballet recital, daddy-daughter dance, and grad school alumni event all packed within a 16-hour period, we were crazed. At some point in the conversation, having heard me mention that I had to speak at the alumni event, EJ asked me if I had had stage fright. I said, "No, not really. I don't tend to get that too often. I was speaking about a friend and wanted to make sure I did a nice job for her, but I didn't have stage fright." It then occurred to me that I should ask her if she had had stage fright before her recital---maybe this is why she opened up this can of worms. I did, and here was her answer:

"I had a little bit of stage fright for the winter show, but I didn't have any this time. I practiced and practiced my dance, I focused, and then I believed in myself. That's all you need to do. I didn't have any stage fright because I practiced, focused, and believed in myself."

All four adults around the table sat with mouths gaping open, while EJ looked at us quite matter-of-factly, as if she couldn't understand at all why we were shocked. Writing about the moment really doesn't do it justice---she spoke so calmly and plainly, it was as if she had this font of knowledge springing up from deep inside her, and it was as easy to understand as 2 + 2 = 4. Of course all you need to do is practice, focus and believe in yourself. We all know that. It is hard-wired, right? How could all these adults be so surprised?

My dad jumped into the silence and said, "EJ, that sounds about right to me." I said, "Sounds like it would work for almost everything, actually, not just stage fright." EJ then asked if she could have dessert, and we popped back into the here and now, old and new souls just eating a dinner and enjoying the moment. I hope she never forgets her lesson to us---could you imagine how magnificent a life spent simply practicing, focusing, and believing in yourself could be? I think I'm going to take her advice and see what I can do with my next 37+ years.