Why I Was Born

Every year at this time I get so excited about the impending date of the anniversary of my birth- into human form (again), not into spirit- as far as I know. But how can I know this? I could be (put pinky to lips) MILLIONS of years old. 
Since my birthday is nearly at hand, arriving at 12:30 in the afternoon, I am feeling deeply into the that moment of conception, seeing the world at that time, feeling it more so, from every possible sensory perspective. 
Sponging in sounds and colors and forms and shapes and textures. What is this world? Why am I here? Feeling love and fear and everything in between. Each moment is an opportunity to understand, to communicate anything that can be comprehended by the enormous shapes of constant care- givers of love and sustenance. 
I am beginning to understand over time that "I" don't feel like the ever expansive and eternal wave of all as I did just a short time ago coming into my birth. I have coalesced into consciousness and matter, alchemizing together to become the intersection and encapsulation of spirit and flesh, firmament embodied for God's sake- or, literally, for Heaven's sake. 
The thoughts eventually form, creating a cacophonous indecipherable mersong of musical notes. Laughter, honking, crying, humming, sizzling, whirring, whispering, ringing. Breathing, the sound that roars through my ears. It seems to happen even if I do not do it. I begin to perceive lacy and threadlike veins of light dancing diaphanously among us who breathe in this new world of experience. Literally and figuratively, a double entendre- those who breathe in this world, and those who breathe IN this world.
The threads are joining us and Be-ing into us- guiding and supporting as if it is their duty. In time I would see how this would be the great web that is described by some. Called God to others. So many names it would get called, it's function eventually forgotten. Forgotten until it is remembered. They don't seem to see it, none of them appear to. Would this happen to me? Would I eventually forget as well? My sense is I would for a while then would recall bit by bit, piecing together the how and why of returning. In time coming to understand why I would incarnate again and for what purpose. I would become an artist, I would see what others do not. I would be so eager to help people to see what they have forgotten. I would help them to feel what they thought was lost. I would commit my life to art and magic, to deciphering the ancient theories and texts. To staring ever curiously into the void and unraveling the mysteries, within and without. I would be a micro and macro cosmonaut in the dimensions of perception. I would dedicate my life to being an instrument for the healing of the world. I would find clarity after times of suffering and reflection. I would see how precious mortality is and how fragile existence is. I would seek to understand the nature of existence and why I returned again.