To be Born is to be Chosen. These are the words of Irish Author, John O’Donohue. No dream message this morning but in a conversation with an Indigenous Elder today she explained how she was chosen from an early age to carry the responsibility of the teachings of her Old People.

I have heard this before in my interviews with Indigenous Elders where there is no automatic transmission of knowledge to younger people. They have to demonstrate that they are eager to learn and capable of carrying the responsibility of their Lore.

John O’Donohue expresses birth as the result of some primal kindness choosing us and bringing us through the forest of dreaming until we emerge into the clearance of individuality, with life’s path opening before us through the world; “the beginning holds the clue to everything that follows”.

For the babies being born in this pandemic I wonder what path will open up for them in the world? Already their extended families are having to wait to meet them in person and they are being welcomed to them through digital technology. Their welcome into the world is so different to how it would have been if they had been born prior to the spread of Covid-19.

In unsettling times, innovation can occur in the way we think as well as in the way we use technologies. The frightening COVID-19 pandemic may be creating such a change now—by forcing many of us to slow down, to spend more time in personal reflection, away from the noise and heave of the world. With more quiet time, more privacy, more stillness, we have an opportunity to think about who we are, as individuals and as a society. We finally have time to pass on the knowledge and teach the lessons that we have learnt to the younger generations.

It is within an unusual stillness that these new souls are emerging and hopefully they will carry the knowledge within them of the kindest path for all of life into the future . For the children entering the world during this pandemic, this is your blessing:

As I enter my new family, May they be delighted

At how their kindness, Comes into blossom.

Unknown to me and them, May I be exactly the one

To restore in their forlorn places, New vitality and promise.

May the hearts of others, Hear again the music

In the lost echoes, Of their neglected wonder.

If my destiny is sheltered, May the grace of this privilege

Reach and bless the other infants, Who are destined for torn places.

If my destiny is bleak, May I find in myself,

A secret stillness And tranquillity, Beneath the turmoil.

May my eyes never lose sight, Of why I have come here,

That I never be claimed, By the falsity of fear

Or eat the bread of bitterness.

In everything I do, think, Feel and Say

May I allow the light of the world I am leaving

To shine through and carry me home.

From John O’Donohue : Benedictus : A Book of Blessings