Before I Got Here : The Wondrous Things We Hear When We Listen to the Souls of Our Children
Before I Got Here : The Wondrous Things We Hear When We Listen to the Souls of Our Children
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Author(s): Underwood, Blair
ISBN No.: 9780743271493
Pages: 192
Year: 200510
Format: Trade Cloth (Hard Cover)
Price: $ 26.15
Dispatch delay: Dispatched between 7 to 15 days
Status: Available

Introduction by Blair Underwood It has been said thatwe are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but rather, we are SPIRITUAL beings having a human experience. As our three children, ages eight, six, and three, practically ransacked my parents' home during a recent visit, I would often glance over and steal a glimpse of either my mother or father in virtual bliss as they witnessed the near demolition of their living quarters. The same acts that would have landed me in "Punishment Purgatory" bring sheer delight to grandparents and, at rare times, to parents. When I asked my father why he was so joyful in the presence of his grandchildren, he began to wax philosophical on the inexplicable emotions one feels when face-to-face with their legacy. He then commented on how happy our children seemed. He said, "That means you guys are doing your jobs right as parents." I consider this to be the ultimate compliment. Though my profession is that of an actor, the monikers I cherish most areHusbandandFather.


I feel that, as parents, we are blessed to be entrusted with the lives of our children, these tiny angels from above. We are the guardians, for too brief a time, of these souls that are very much alive and well-defined when they relocate among us. When each of our children was born, I witnessed my wife bring forth new life. The first birth was by cesarean. With the subsequent births I watched as she reached down, placed her hands under the armpits of our babies, and literally pulled them into the world, without the use of any drugs. From the instant a newborn takes its initial breath, it is evident that the basic foundation and/or blueprint of that baby's personality is already in place. Though operating on instinct when babies find their way to their mother's nipple to suckle for the first time, there are already subtle clues about the persons they will become.Even in their earliest weeks here, there are signs of the persona yet to emerge.


if we only pay attention.Consequently I feel that parents have very little control of what type of child (physically, mentally, etc.) will be divinely assigned to us. On the other hand, far too many influences lay in wait with the sole intent to corrupt the purity of children's souls. In our own attempts to be worthy of the title "parent," we endeavor, at times, to control, protect, guide, expose, teach, and "let go." "Let go," to allow our children to evolve, mature, and eventually replenish the earth with their own seeds. Ah, yes, the proverbial "Circle of Life." But, at what point does the circle begin, and where, if ever, if ever does it end? Where do our souls begin and where do they end? I believe in the "eternal perspective" of life.


In other words, life does not begin and end on our planet Earth. There is a continuum of our life force that inherently remembers thoughts, sights, and sounds of a previous existence."before we got here." Where, when, and how we existed prior to now is both impossible to know and irrelevant. What is enormously relevant is the fact thatwe are given brief glimpses into this other world by the purest of beings, our children. They visit and share our space for just a finite period.They walk among us so innocent and naive, yet profoundly wise and insightful. Somehow they are still connected to that "other place" that is, by definition, the manifestation of love eternal.


As a father of three young children, I have experienced firsthand the silliness, the elation, the bickering, and the exploration of new worlds through infant eyes.The occasional nonchalant "utterings" of those youngsters can now and then leave a parent speechless.if we truly listen to what our children are telling us. A few years ago, when my e.


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