In heaven there is a living mirror made of turbulent water whose storm-wrought churnings emit celestial musics. Around this mirror the eternal souls of heroes dance in a ring. As they dance and sing with the waters of the mirror, they grow smaller.

Finally, in a tempest of exaltation, the smallest will break from the group and leap into the mirror, disappearing into its storm. At this act of shocking courage, the entire group will break into tears and cheering, continuing their singing and dancing with ever-increasing fervor.

And down here on Earth… you are born.

But they do not forget you. Though you may not remember the ring, the mirror, or the celebration, they see you at all times, and know you to be one of their number. When you fall, they sing louder, sending you sacred transmissions of invisible strength to continue the journey you began; an adventure whose nature is intrinsically holy, heroic, and mysterious beyond the wildest hopes of comprehension by mankind. And each time you rise to meet the potential of your actual capacities, they weep with pride, joy, and filial recognition.

And thus I bid you remember the living mirror beyond the sky; and the cohort of heroes who sing and dance in remembrance, praise and encouragement of your sacred leap… and your heroic travails in the confusing world below.