Let me just cry a little. Being reminded of the loss and love of my cat Toulouse. Watching my nanny kids and their friend pour their soul out as they sing and dance to “Let It Go”, so sincerely, so seriously. Receiving a birthday card and present from my beloved friend, who moved to Ohio and offers to pay half the fare when I come to visit. All these small acts of great love.
Nothing substantial enough to be remembered hundred years from now. Nothing powerful enough to create world peace. And all essential to make life more wonderful.
To love and be loved.
That’s all there really is to life.
As a child, born from parents who lived through the horrors of World War II, I grappled how it was possible that people committed the most horrendous of crimes, and walked away with it. No amends, no retribution, no consequences.
The only thing I could think of that supported my need for restoration and responsibility, was that Hitler and his consorts had punished themselves by taking the actions they took.
To live in a world with that much fear, hatred and anger, is to not live at all. To never relax into this moment, is cutting yourself off the opportunity to love life. To not have support to meet your needs in ways that include those of others too, must be utterly lonely.
The only choice we can make in each moment is to open up to the raw beauty of being alive, to try to transform suffering, to bring joy, love, and harmony, or to shut down and close off.
To love and be loved. That’s all there is to human life.
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