…to become young. -Pablo Picasso

I am just returned from a vacation long planned, long saved for. A ‘pilgrimage’ with forty souls and a priest to some of the marvels of Europe–religious and man made. It is through the eyes of a novice one truly ‘sees’. I, the novice of this vacation pilgrimage– to explore.

Children are like that. They remain deeply present in the moment as they conquer their new world. So too, we who value travel. We open our hearts, minds and eyes to other cultures other places, just as a child does day in and out to his new world.

It take a long time to regain this innocence, once it is lost. To regain the ability to set aside all the distractions of our adult world and just ‘be’. A human sponge.

My daughter sent a short video of my granddaughter making her first triumphant crawling expeditions across the family room carpet to knock down block towers. Her vocalizations were joyous, focused, committed to the task of accomplishment and learning. She literally willed herself to propel forward in her infant environment, in order to explore and gain some mastery over her world. She is fully engaged in the dance of life.

When you have been betrayed by your spouse, it decimates your childlike wonder. Innocence in gone. We who have been there at first struggle to simply survive. It is tough to be childlike when you feel unsafe and violated.

Yet it is this very quality that brings richness and wonder into our world. It is what we must strive for– to regain ourselves, our love of life, our gratitude for every moment of life. None of us know how many days we have on this beautiful blue marble twirling through space. The shame of being deceived is the robbery it causes of so very many moments.

Life is indeed a series of moments. We are worth striving to savor each and every one of them–even the ones that hold pain. Our emotions and experiences are what attach us to life. They steep us in the primordial essence of life.

I look for the best in each moment. I look for the lessons, the beauty, the joy. I am over three years out from my D-day and I still have to remain vigilant and mindful of my desire to move toward a life I can love–just like my granddaughter who squeals at the joy of knocking over a tower of colorful blocks.

I want to be more like her again. And I can be. I can make it so. I have the power to choose life.