We envy the child. As they gurgle and coo and laugh like crazy we realise they still possess something we have lost. It's the price we paid for growing up. And what would we give to recapture even a small measure of that joy?
I have had this thought, it makes me sad. Why are we incapable of refocussing, pulling our bleeding foreheads away from the wall and the knives from each other's backs, and finding happiness?
Is this the essence of the Christian Genesis mythology, we can't resist knowledge but in the process it kills the possibility of harmony?
It is the only dark lining on the silver clouds of Bear's incessant, cackling laughter. I won't let myself become pessimistic though, there must be a better way and, together with Cub, we are going to work on finding it.