Today’s a good day, I think, to poke at something I don’t normally talk about. That MOST people don’t normally talk about. No, it’s not really about godspousery, except in an abstract, semi-related sense. Brace yourselves, you get to hear my thoughts on…

Astral babies.

I have them. I know other people who have them. I’ve met other people’s non-corporeal children, and other people have met mine. It’s just turned into one of those simultaneously unremarkable and astonishing things I deal with on a daily basis: I’ve created new life with Someone I love. I’m freaked out and proud and nervous and overwhelmed with love and all those thousands of other emotions that new parents get slammed with.

BUT.

Remember the part about how I don’t normally talk about all this? There are reasons for that.

First, there’s the widespread assumption that everyone with astral kids is crazy, or looking for attention, or claiming this experience because everyone else is, or, or, or… And frankly? I don’t care much what other people think of me, but it still royally sucks to read those sorts of dismissive opinions, no matter how thick one’s skin is.

There’s also the issue of people who are open to the idea, but who are also, shall we say, a little too curious for comfort. I strive to be as honest as possible about my experiences (factoring in the particular audience and situation, of course); it makes me extremely uncomfortable to lie about religious/spiritual stuff, to the point where I have a hard time grokking why anyone would want to do that in the first place.

However, I’ve had people ask me point-blank about whether I have astral kids, and I’ve blatantly fibbed about it. It didn’t feel good, it was perhaps unfair to the inquirers’ innocent curiosity, but it was necessary.

And that’s because my children are not a sideshow. They do not exist to be gawked at, poked, fondled, snickered over, or harassed. By ANYONE.

They also don’t need your worship and awe; once they’re grown up and off on their own, they can make their own decisions about the level of interaction they want to have with mortals. But for now? They’re KIDS. They may be God/dess-kids with perception and abilities far beyond the ken of ordinary humans, but they’re still way too young to have everyone and their aunt bugging them at all hours. Even incorporeal toddlers get cranky when they haven’t had their naptime, okay?

Also, I have an extremely short list of people with whom I share details about my kids. And that’s “short” as in “can be counted on the fingers of one hand and still have fingers left over,” in case you were wondering. Yeah, I keep family info on a pretty tight need-to-know lockdown. Not through any fear of ridicule, though–if that were the only factor, I’d be a lot more open and public about the whole issue. Nah, it’s because there are certain individuals who talk about wanting to hunt down people’s astral kids and kill them. It’s possible that they mean it as a joke, or some other non-serious way of venting their frustration about the whole concept, but sorry, I don’t find that funny. And I can’t think of any other parents who would, either, regardless of whether their children are embodied or not. So yeah–I’m VERY selective about sharing that kind of info, lest it fall into the wrong hands.

(As an aside, actually trying to harm a deity’s children strikes me as an absurdly foolhardy endeavor. You’re gonna have Mom or Dad out for your blood, and that’s assuming the kids haven’t already handed your posterior to you in the meantime. Always remember Rule One of the Astral, everyone: Just because it looks like a sweet and delicate five-year-old girl doesn’t mean it can’t turn you into mincemeat in two seconds flat.)

So now that I’m done ranting for the moment, what do I want people to take away from this post? A few points of common courtesy, I guess, which can easily be applied to other situations: Don’t assume, just because someone is open about having astral children, that you’re entitled to know more than they’ve already shared. If you’re curious about the phenomenon and would like to know more, be polite when asking, and back off if the other party seems reluctant to talk about it. Understand that another person’s experiences do not threaten or invalidate your own unless you let them (this of course need not apply to someone who’s insisting that you have to believe EXACTLY as they do; there’s a distinct difference between sharing one’s thoughts and being an asswipe, after all).

And above all: Don’t be a dick. Especially about people’s kids. Their objective reality is vanishingly unlikely to have any bearing on your life, and your finding the concept absurd or uncomfortable is not a valid reason to shit all over something that’s meaningful to another person.

And that’s all the rant that’s fit to print. At least for today.