Chapter 1 – Born to Be a Blessing
A baby is a blessing—
a gift from above,
a fragile miracle entrusted to life itself.
Have you ever paused to consider how rare your birth truly is?
Not your achievements.
Not your identity.
Not your circumstances.
Simply your being born human.
Among the vastness of this universe and the astonishing diversity of life on Earth, the probability of being born as a human being—Homo sapiens—is almost unimaginably small.
Scientists estimate that there are nearly 8.7 million known species of life on this planet, both on land and in the oceans, with new species still being discovered. Of these, only about 60,000 species are vertebrates—those possessing a backbone. From this group emerge approximately 5,000 species of mammals, and among them, just one is human.
One.
By this measure alone, the statistical likelihood of human birth is estimated at a staggering 0.00001%.
Spiritual traditions have long echoed this rarity. Vedanta—the ancient spiritual science of life—teaches that a human birth is attained only after countless lifetimes through lower forms of existence. It is not accidental. It is earned. It is precious.
Yet, despite this extraordinary gift, we often move through life mechanically, rarely pausing to acknowledge its significance.
From the moment we are born, life begins to resemble a carefully designed timetable—much like a school schedule. Wake up. Prepare. Attend school or work. Return home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Over time, this routine expands into years, decades, and eventually a lifetime.
Our days are structured so rigidly that we begin to measure life not by awareness or meaning, but by milestones and expectations. Birth is followed by kindergarten, school, college, career, marriage, social standing, and retirement. Each stage is predefined, expected, and rarely questioned.
The human life cycle is commonly described in six stages:
foetus, baby, child, adolescent, adult, and elderly.
Physically, we change continuously. Emotionally and spiritually, however, something far more subtle occurs.
In the earliest stages—foetus, baby, and child—there exists a profound and natural soul connection. It is pure, instinctive, and unfiltered. As we grow older, this connection begins to fade, gradually overshadowed by ambition, responsibility, social pressure, and material pursuits.
In the pursuit of success, status, and security, life becomes increasingly goal-oriented and outcome-driven. Desires multiply. Actions follow. Yet these desires often drift away from the soulful and move toward the material. Somewhere along this journey, compassion thins, awareness dulls, and relationships become transactional rather than humane.
We forget that we enter this world alone, and we will leave it alone.
Family, friends, and companions may walk beside us for parts of the journey, but ultimately, it is our integrity, our choices, and our inner connection that shape the legacy we leave behind.
The world around us constantly changes, yet within us exists something unchanging—an imperishable essence that transcends time and circumstance. We often acknowledge the heart as the center of emotion, but what about the soul—the quiet force that once guided us so effortlessly in our earliest days?
Why does this connection weaken as we grow?
Why does awareness give way to routine?
Why does meaning become secondary to momentum?
This chapter invites you to recognize the extraordinary privilege of your human birth and to reflect on the subtle disconnection that develops as life progresses.
More importantly, it asks a simple yet profound question:
Can we carry forward that original soul connection throughout our lives?
In my own reflections, and through observing others, I have found that those who remain deeply rooted in self-awareness and spirituality are often the ones who preserve this connection across all stages of life.
As we move forward in this journey together, you will begin to explore how this connection can be rediscovered, nurtured, and sustained—so that life is not merely lived, but felt, understood, and honored.
