Imagine the past as a cellar full of bric-a-brac.
Years ago, before indigo children were being spoken of, I was approached in meditation by a beautiful being preparing to incarnate. He told me he would be born in China and that we would probably never meet in person. Beyond that I know nothing of him. He asked for help, saying that many would be coming to Earth over the next few decades who would benefit from a greater understanding and appreciation for who they are and what their purpose is.
On a hill outside a small town in Europe a group of mathematicians, musicians and meditators are gathered. They are using electro-magnetic fields to move the moisture in the air of late afternoon until the dampness turns here and there to a thin mist. The pure notes of the musicians hold these mists still in places and the sunlight on them creates rainbows. All of the men and women here, children too, some in silence, some softly singing, begin to weave iridescent patterns in the networks of droplets that are floating on the air.
A group of girls – there are seven or eight of them – all belong to the same church in a wealthy area of a North American city. They love to cook. They do not see why anyone in their city should be hungry. They cook with love.
By the time they are eight years old their pastor has let them take over the church kitchen. Each weekend and on evenings too they pour love into cakes and cookies. They give them to anyone who wants. People bring them ingredients. Word gets around. But although there is some publicity, mostly they avoid it.
A warm sea and a silver beach; here the children grow up in and out the water all the time. They are accomplished divers from an early age and take to sitting together in a circle underwater in the shallows holding hands. They can communicate better this way, tuning into each other’s thoughts and feelings and creating jokes.
Five children grow up in an orphanage. Some of their carers sing beautifully and these children pick up songs as easily as breathing. They love to sing together, and begin to develop a scale that’s not been heard before. The harmonies they create when they sing together move people profoundly. It seems their music has healing qualities for people’s spirits recover when these children sing and fevers subside – even injuries mend more quickly.
The contrast between the world we leave when we take on human form and this world we arrive in is very great. Mostly we have dealt with it by forgetting where we came from and getting on with the life we found for ourselves here on Earth. I believe it is less easy now for children to use this strategy. Children now, not all by any means, but perhaps more than we tend to assume, are arriving here with strong, clear memories of other, expanded and naturally joyful states of consciousness.
The powerful bonds we find in our families often have a history beyond this lifetime. In his excellent book The Secret Spiritual World of Children, Tobin Hart, an associate professor of psychology at the University of West Georgia, quotes this report of a mother’s conversation with her three-year-old daughter Nicole: The other day, Nicole and I were eating breakfast and out of the blue she said, ‘A long, long time ago when I was a little boy I could turn the light switch on and off all by myself.’