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Show The Women s Room ? bv Kate McCulchan universal, i. .1 keep going on. filling . back, and getting bitter, . complaining loudly at tSnes, but I keep reaching upfor J: that place in, my mindtthat iclls nie.lherc is peace to be had, ' ; My conviction has : become toward positivity and t my struggle has become a maintenance of my -own ' inner peace. Robert Louis Stevenson said; -To travel - hopefully is better than to arrive: and the true success is to labor' Some of my greatest happinesses have - been to do for others, and my best highs have come from seeing someone's face - light up with a smile. "Happiness is not in our circumstances, but' in ourselves," our-selves," said John B. Sheerin; "It is not something some-thing we see, like, a rainbow, pr feel, like the heat of a fire. Happiness is something we , ; are.' - Mf&'kfa .'lT As difficult as it sometimes some-times is to maintain, I choosev peace over agitation, contentment con-tentment over envy' settling for less rather than being consumed by greed. Here's to hope hope for individual equanimity and peace for the world. :vf ; ' ' ,:. M- ,., . ' ' . . : ' . y'l,-.- . I came to Utah in 1973, flving through the skies from Washington. D.C. to Salt Lake City, one stop in Chicago. . The man who seated himself beside me after our lay-over was a i-medical i-medical doctor and research scientist working at the University of Utah. Afraid to appear undeserving of discussion dis-cussion with such a learned person. 1 merely listened for the first hour. He was' , working very hard on the technicalities of heart transplants, trans-plants, feeling much pride J that the latest thratispiaht suryiyor, a young calf, was still progressing well.. There waSj a sadness abouf . him, tpo.,though.. that was a result of a lengthy separation from 'his wife and family, lie had Jost .ail hope that they would ever be together 'again, and flamed ; much of tlfe failure on himself, Honesty from others always al-ways makes me open my own ; 'mouth. I no longer worried about whether my seat-mate would find me an intellectual equal. We were speaking from the heart; and feelings are where I live. We spent the rest of our trip oblivious to our surroundings. We talked about love arid God, home and family, life and death, as the stars sped by outside our window. It seemed we had said it all, and we sat for a long time in silence. Then he turned to me and asked me what I thought the answer to if all could be. " I replied without a nnoment's hesitation, "Love -rave is the only , answer there 1 ever be." . . , Poor, me, poor him. He looked at me sadly, shaking his head at my youth and my naivete. V'Love not an answer."he said. "Love, is only an emotion." We sat and stared at each other in our , isolation, the scientist without a heart; the heart without a science. Our eommunication was at an end. That was a year before my father died, two years before" my mother died, and seven years before I sat in my little house alone and contemplated contem-plated the possibility tof nuclear holocaust. It was years before I lived and loved on my own, traveling, adventuring, singing, making mak-ing friends, leaving friends, finding peace and losing it. And through it all, I still cling to my simple remedy as the only possible cure. Love 4 is that essence that allows us to sec another's beauty and feel another's pain. That part; of us that makes us know that there is no "limited warfare" - whehi a |