Ask Max for a kiss, and he'll open his mouth and stick his little tongue out as if tentatively tasting an ice cream or other delight. He'll lean his perfectly shaped, downy little head towards yours and gently press his sweet face into yours. He never closes his mouth and you always end up a bit slobbery, but it makes me want to cry and laugh and be speechless with overwhelming emotion.
I am not so old but old enough. Is it one of life's great lessons -- that final understanding what true striving constitutes? Where things and adventures aren't just rolling off in front of you and distractions don't suffice? Seeing the truth and reality of how actions and words and workings of the heart change can ruin someone or build him, embolden or crush, help him grow or leave him in wasteful sedation. The workings of your heart can alter someone terribly and make him give up hope -- make him ambivalent. And it can bring vibrancy, contagious joy (the joy I mean that understands pain) and goodness. It can bring intimate and enviable friendships, long and good marriages, stable and loving children.
A real work of the heart requires more than simply putting one foot in front of the other. But how can the work -- the transformation -- begin without those steps taken out of love and duty and responsibility and a desire to fulfill my commitment, my promise?
Ironically I don't have time to further expand on the below excerpt.
"Before the motorcar existed, people travelled on foot and at a speed of 5-15 kph. We function best at that speed. Our perceptive and reactive capabilities enable us to avoid collisions with other people and obastacles. If, contrary to all expectations, an accident should occur, the consequent injuries will not be very serious.
In today's society we travel at much higher speeds. The time we have to detect others, interpret information, and take decisions is very much shorter. If we make a mistake and an accident occurs resulting in a dead stop, we get hurt."
Körkortsboken, in English
/for now we see in a mirror dimly/
(we can't see our true selves)
(the picture's never really clear: foggy, distorted)
/but then face to face/
(as a man speaks to a friend)
/now i know in part/
(it's in some way a relief: not expected to know more)
/but then i shall know fully/
(sweet assurance: i have only sampled the feast)
(when it's hard to swallow: clumpy, dry, strange: it's only a foretaste)
/even as i have been fully known/
(i cannot see, yet i'm seen)
(my vision is weak but
we've been needing glasses since the dawn of time)
/i corinthians 13:12/