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Step In Time

There is never enough time. And then, there is so much time that it feels like eternity. It's an eternity, waiting in the family room while your child is having surgery. Time flickers by like a flower spotted from a speeding car when your child takes his first step. A kiss, a feeling of happiness, gone in a little burst of light. The sun passes behind the clouds, and a cold wind blows for what feels like years. I try to remember, to recreate those days, those feelings, that sensation of a little hand taking yours, a smile or a laugh. My brain knows that somewhere, there is a place where I would remember those moments, but the rest of me, doesn't know how. I like to pretend that now will last forever. That right now, the moment of joy, of sun, will carry on endlessly, cloudlessly; that the song will keep playing and I will never grow tired of it. An endless symphony of glorious sound filling and overflowing with joy. Perhaps this is what paradise will be like. How can I keep a grip on it?
A spiritual man once said, the biggest downfall of humanity is that we think we have time. That we have time to love, to forgive, to create. That the procession of tomorrows will keep coming until we reach fulfillment. It is in vain that prophets warn to live each day as the last. It falls on ears that are naive and tuned inwards. The lovely music becomes bland, everyday, a grating song that we don't hear anymore. There will always be another radio station, there will always be more. There will always be time for more. But time marches on, tirelessly, pitilessly, it doesn't stop; a relentless death march. Everyday just brings that future closer to us and to our loved ones.
Yet, so many days we spend in waiting. Waiting for something better, waiting for healing, for fruition, we are endlessly trusting that something better is going to come along, eventually. So the furious march of time isn't even fast enough for us. We are ever hopeful that if we just wait, things will fix themselves. That the next time we open our eyes, the sun will be out again.
But time doesn't work that way. Everyday we get is a gift not to be taken for granted. Our time is precious, even those long endless days that seem filled with tedium and expectation. The better days may come, or they may not. All that you have is today- today to love, to forgive, to create. To make it better somehow. We turn around, panicking, when we think of our time running out. We want to dictate it, to control time for own gain. Instead we should embrace it, to step into it, to blend into the rhythm of our life without trying to bend it to our will. Like in music, there is freedom in the wholeness, the oneness of being in time. Leo is learning to walk, everyday he gets closer and closer. The seconds of holding his own balance get longer and longer, and yet it isn't fast enough for me. But it should be. Every minute today, if the correct time is kept, is beautiful.


  1. Thank you, thank you! We've been waiting for this post for eternity. Go, Levka, go!

  2. Haha! Yeay Leo, soon your mom will wish she had roller blades on to keep up with you! :-)

  3. Such a beautiful post, Anna. And so timely, too - as I worry about having enough hours to get our life packed up in boxes, and wish that our little man slept longer to give me more 'time'! Thank you. And go mobile Leo!


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