When I'm with a child, I feel about a million times lighter. What does this kid know that I don't? What is so a part of children that they can leaves us feeling like dopey adults, left out of their secret?
I'm starting to understand and appreciate that situations such as breakups and loss can act like catalysts. Painful as they may be, they are opportunities in disguise, that give you the chance to rewrite the stories we attach to past events that ultimately shape our perception of reality.
Still reeling from the "if it feels good, do it" ethos of the 60s, our social milieu says go get what you need -- whatever it is, however you must. Who cares if you destroy your own life so long as you don't really hurt anyone else?