They say we choose our parents before we are conceived. We hand pick the set of circumstances most likely to allow for the expansion of our consciousness. Our recycled spirits descend and cocoon in our mothers until we emerge in our baby bodies, overwhelmed to find ourselves once again gravity-locked to the same blue/green rock sliding around a star. That's why babies cry when they exit the womb. They're in shock at the new arrangement. They're still young enough to remember what it was like to not be restrained to an isolated cage of veins and bones.  They know what's coming too. The lengthening of the limbs, the sharpening of the eyes, the learning of the lesson that I am me and you are you and the two are not the same. The gradual forgetting that maybe this is not as it has always been.