How is it that in sorrow all the people, old people, middle aged, tough men and women, behave like children? Is it because growing up is imposed? An imposed fallacy, and when at our weakest we cannot bare the lie anymore; and we let go of our conciouseness, and we become like children.
Is this the real freedom that we believe to have when we are aware, but presents itself only in the most degrading grief?
I have noticed this kind of behaviour also when people are close to dieing. Pride vanishes. Utter shame overcomes, and overwhelms, and thus... freedom of the mind.
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