I just spent a gloriously, (way-too-short), exhausting week with my six and two-year-old grandchildren.  Although the visit also included many other loving members of my large family, (plus a wedding, some birthdays, peanut allergies, cookies, pie and an obstacle course), the energy, timetable, activities and mood swings were nearly exclusively dictated by the youngest among us.  There was, as always, the slightly too intense gathering, (or two…or three), that heightened the anxiety of some of the adults, prompting unsuccessful attempts at curbing the perpetual motion of the miniature dervishes.  I, for one, happily embraced the chaos as an opportunity to behave child-like, (or more child-like than usual), immersed in make believe, crayons, puzzles, rolling around on the floor and yelling too loudly, (I think I was given the most time outs).  However, (without the unpredictable benefits of the lobotomy that I’ve been considering), for an adult, the wonder and excitement of acting like a kid comes with all of the knowledge, angst and fun-stomping awareness and complexities of the world around us.

And, that makes me wonder.  What was the tipping point when we humans of the Earth stopped leaving things better than we found them and started back the other way?  When did the diseases that we create surpass our motivation and ability to cure them?  When did our growing knowledge of ecology and the environment finally lose out to the net profits of unconscionable industry?  How could we forget about the War to End All Wars, and continue on a path towards a War to End All?  The MEANING OF LIFE is really much simpler than any philosophical treatise.  It is our unspoken mandate to use all of the cumulative knowledge of our past to make our children’s future BETTER THAN WE FOUND IT.  How unimaginable that we have the power to achieve that goal…and choose not to?