I think human growth and maturity does come through a lot of pain. I think in order for us to be kinder and warmer human beings, feeling the pains of others, and truly caring for them on some level, comes only when our own hearts have been broken open. That is a hard reality but pain somehow softens us.

I am so glad you came by today to visit me. Thank you very much!

For many of us (myself included) the search for warmth and affection and that unconditional love you speak of is perpetual—or seemingly so.

There is so much idiosyncrasy in the world. From love to religion (as you so deftly scribed) to self awareness and perception.

Acceptance even.

We explain God to ourselves by justifying our belief in the God concept. Our stance on who and what He is, is as unique as our palm prints. What I believe will be different from what you believe and so on.

No one can or should try to tell us how to live or love. The search for emotional satiation and the arrival of an even, spiritual keel into our lives are part of the covenant we have with the Divine–whatever form that takes. This, I believe.

I am also a firm believer in the ying and yang principle—that in order to experience the great depth of joy, we have to understand the gnawing agony of pain. That’s my ONLY explanation for why bad things happen to good people.

LK

Wonderful post, Viola. Glad you’re back in the saddle!

Anthropologist sounds fabulous! My husband is a Geologist and that is very interesting as well. Although, he does spend a lot of time behind the computer. It is not like the good old days. What profession where you in? May I ask?

Fortunately, the pain has not dampened your spirit. Very nice insight into beauty and truth. It certainly triggered recall of my experience in the Masai Mara.

I envy your encounter with the real Lucy. We saw only pictures and diagrams at Olduvai. In my next life I think being an anthropologist would be very cool.

Btw: We went to see the “Lucy” exhibit here in Houston with our two children.

We were able to visit the Olduvai Gorge, where Louis Leakey had found the fossil remains of one of our oldest ancestors, a woman they named Lucy. It is an unremarkable, arid place, but in some way I felt a deep connection because I knew this was where some of our oldest human ancestors had lived.

I was also deeply moved by the life and death drama that takes place each day in the African bush. It is an ecosystenm in which each plant, bird, and animal occupies its niche. We saw babies being borne; we saw huge herds of grazing antelope, buffalo, elephants, zebras, etc. etc.; we saw the animals of prey stalking and killing the grazers; we saw birds and other carrion that ate what the bigger animals left behind. We sensed the balance and energy as each day all the inhabitants played their roles in the vast drama of birth, life, and death. There was a deep feeling of connection to it all. Something from the genes passed down from our long ago ancestors.

Then one evening we saw a line of ten or so giraffes meandering gracefully along the top of a ridge, backlighted by the setting sun. It was a scene of such surpassing beauty that I was totally carried into another place. I felt such deep love and appreciation for the wonder of it all. It transported me into a state of grace. For the rest of our time in Africa and some weeks after I remained in that state – so in love with, and connected to, all that our Creator has provided.

Alas, in my case, grace is never lasting. But the memory lasts and for me that is enough.