The baby is crawling at the verge of the ocean. Sometimes, he surges forward, into the thin skin of water that runs up the shore. He slaps at the water, delighted. Then he looks back at his mother, grinning at what he is discovering. Wanting to share it with her. 

The look back. We all do it. Even my dog Anna does it. It’s obvious what we are looking at: the eyes of those who love us. 

But why do we do it? What does meeting those eyes mean? 

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