Putting women in huge skirted dresses, and men in ticky-tacky boxed up jobs, and children in 'our places', only promoted a backlash of unbridled Love and Art, the "Me Generation', and more wars and depressions of dubious origins that we at least, finally, had the decency to stop naming "Great."
We are now living in a world of hurt and anxiety, not tremendously surprisingly. And so are our children, and theirs.
What will we do?
The Great War ended 99 years ago, this weekend, and we are still shell shocked.
We could turn and look the hurt straight in the eye. We could Listen. Sometimes when we are not well, the thing to do is honor what the pain is trying to tell us. Which can take courage.
May I offer my own personal favorite method of wholesomeness? Make art.