Birth is as much a disembodiment as it is a compilation, a conformation. As the umbilical cord is cleaved, once and for all, the separation and disconnection that make each newborn wail in anxiety seem unpreventable. Nature , in its complexity and effectiveness, prepares us for what is ahead. As we slide down the dark passage of our first shelter, helpless against the expunging currents of a suddenly rough sea, we may apprehend that we are merely passing through the eye of the storm. We emerge on the other side, no longer attached to another being and step into the world as one body, one mind. It is a consciousness that is unique to ourselves and that we will define on our own. And the beginning of consciousness was, for me, the awareness of everything that was wrong.