From the moment he was born, my son Cai behaved like a post apocalyptic warrior. He scavenged metal in our neighborhood, built elaborate traps, made swords out of duck tape and wood, and never threw away a cardboard box because he "might" need it for the future. One time I told him to put his shoes on to leave the house, and he growled, furrowed his eyebrows, jumped to his feet, and pointed a stick spear at my head. He is zesty, bold, athletic, an inventor, builder, thinker, creator, survivor. He loves mobilizing and leading peers but doesn't prefer emotional exchanges. He would rather "crush my bones" (his version of a hug) versus give me a standard hug. If you ask him directly to talk about feelings, he crawls under the table and rolls his eyes.
When I opened his Akashic record, I learned that Cai had been a Viking and Roman warrior, and ancient Lyran royalty, among others. (You can read more about all Starseed types here.) My husband Brian and I have attempted to massage and channel Cai's greatness as well as support him in releasing what we clearly see as discomfort around vulnerability and intimacy. Luckily for him, he chose two therapist parents in this life and one that can see into his soul record (Coincidence? I think not). And so, we regularly create opportunities around moon cycles for creative family rituals to help him, and us, move energy. To invite deeper feelings forward and to support integration.
But this time, we had no idea what was coming.
On the Aries new moon we did our family ritual, per usual, with candle lighting, prayer and spoken intentions. I thought it would be fun to also play a game where we imagined a past life and told a story about what we did, what it was like, and talk about a skill we want to bring from that life into this one. In the spirit of Aries, I wanted to encourage and harness personal power.
Cai loves these discussions so as long as they don't get too emotionally deep or require vulnerability from him. He has Mars, Venus and Jupiter in the 12th house so we understand his emotional expression to be sideways and hidden most often. My husband went first and told a poetic story about a Merman dedicated to earth healing that swam all day in the ocean playing with sea life. He acknowledged that his love of nature and shark expertise surely comes from this. My son raised his hand quickly after that and then darted off to his room to grab his 5 pound astronomy book. He returned flipping feverishly through the pages searching for "the right stars" and then settled on the Lyra constellation yelling "that's it" and said:
"Mommy, you and me once took a flying rental car from this star to another star for a war.
It was very scary.
We were fighting other aliens who wanted our power and planets.
You died mommy but I tried so so hard not to be sad,
but I was sad.
And I know why you died mommy,
you died protecting me, so I could live.
At that moment my husband and I made eye contact and froze, hearts beating out of our chests, and tears streaming down both of our cheeks. We didn't know what to say. Cai was enamored with the picture of stars in his book, hypnotized, not making eye contact, dazing. My husband suddenly said, "well that took a hard turn" and cleared his throat nervously. I took several deep breaths to ensure I could speak without crying uncontrollably, and when I felt gathered, I touched Cai on the shoulder and said:
"Babe, that must have been really hard for you to go on alone after that. I'm so sorry that happened. We found each other again in this life didn't we? And I'll follow you to every lifetime, planet, star, and dimension forever if you want me to. I would die for you over and over if it means you get to be free. Our love never ends. Love never ends."
I grabbed him and tried to hug him, but he fought it, looked down and away then changed the subject quickly.
And that was that.
We went about our evening routine and he pushed that memory far away and back to wherever it came.
What we may not realize is that our children, as well as ourselves, carry cellular memory of many lifetimes, including deeply buried traumas, magnificent strengths, high wisdom and healing gifts. We choose our children, and our children choose us, and we live many lifetimes doing a dance of various roles. But we live in a society, in a time in history, and culture that doesn't always support the exploration of this.
We must understand that our children come here, with us, to work through ancient traumas. We must be willing to look deeper than what we see as real in the current tangible reality. Most children are highly psychically attuned and yet aren't mature enough or have the brain capacity to understand the raw karmic energy that flows out them wanting transmutation. As adults, we could be more willing to assess the value and meaning of the relationships we find ourselves in, and reflect deeper on what patterns are surfacing.
You do not have to recount past lives at the dinner table to catch wind of what is under the hood of the car with your children. You can see early childhood signs of karmic resonance in attachment style, communication patterns, how and what children play with, relationship dynamics, and fears that bubble up. For example, we observed fear of loss in Cai at a young age which manifested as dramatic and traumatic emotional outbursts when loss occurs, and fear of emotional vulnerability in relationships he values most. You too can lean into the nuanced behaviors of your children to gain a deeper understanding of what they are coming here to work on with you.
Here are some great questions to as yourself:
Am I as compassionate as I can be?
Can I look for the meaning or emotional need behind my child's behavior?
What is my child requiring of me that he/she seems to need?
Am I responding from a place of what my child needs, or from what I need?
As the parent, YOU are the chosen healer. Your response eithers repairs trauma or perpetuates it. A major key is to not personalize the projections that are coming your way.
Anslie Macleod, Scottish Medium, in his book The Instruction, talks about the most common past life fears humans carry, this is a good list for you to be observant of in your child as they grow.
1. Loss: At any moment, things/people can be taken away, “on-guard”
2. Betrayal: People aren’t there for me, they might hurt/desert me
3. Intimacy: It’s not safe to trust and open up, I am cold or cut-off
4. Rejection: I can/will be judged, abandoned, rejected
5. Self-Expression: It’s not okay to speak up/ speak my truth
6. Authority: Someone/group with power can/might hurt me
7. Inferiority: I’m just not good enough, worthiness questions
8. Powerlessness: I must control everything, rigidity
9. Failure: Try hard, work hard, die hard…never enough time
10. Death: Tragic consequences can be imminent
Of course parenting is hard work. I struggle at times with the fears of intimacy, loss and powerlessness that my sweet, Lyran warrior Cai demonstrates. My heart becomes so heavy imagining him having to carry these burdens, still, at such a young age. He is a fierce little dude and I have to constantly avoid the power struggles that he naturally creates. It's important to remember however, that my automatic and unconscious parenting response very often stems from my own karmic pain, and may not be the right medicine for my child. And so, if we take the time to breathe and really lean into our children, we can see them with accuracy and prescribe the perfect medicine or healing opportunity.
Our children come to us with both tenderness and trust to help them unpack their karma. Our best parenting action is always patience, presence, and grace. If we are doing our best to offer this, we are fulfilling our mission as guardians.