Time Traveling at the Speed of Love

Eight years ago, my sweet Savannah was diagnosed with a Craniopharyngioma, a benign brain tumor, that destroyed everything in it's path. Many doctors told us there was a slim chance that she would make it through the surgery and if she did, they didn't know what the outcome would be. Hydrocephalus had already set in and things didn't look good. She was diagnosed on May 3, 2003 and her 9 hour surgery took place on May 10, 2003. They said if she did wake up after the surgery it would be several days after the surgery, however within an hour after the surgery, she was trying to sit up and wanted to know when they were going to do the surgery :-). What a blessing! Although the past 8 years have been a challenge for our family, we still have Savannah with us and that is truly a blessing!

The reason I'm writing about this, is I just read an article that brought back the memories of those days before her surgery. I wanted to share it with you all. It touched my heart and I hope it does the same for you!

Love and hugs,
Cathleen

Time Traveling at the Speed of Love
by Marney K. Makridakis

I usually write the article for the Artellagram newsletter right before it goes out, but this time I'm writing and queuing it's send-out a week in advance. Typically, this probably wouldn't seem so odd…for most of us, it's a pretty safe bet that anything we write right now will still be true a week from now. In our everyday lives, the gap between the present and the immediate future seems small and imperceptibly insignificant. We're used to this fluidity from present to future; it comforts us, and protects us from being too fearful of change.

My two-year-old son Kai will be having major surgery in a few days, a total cranial reconstruction to rebuild his skull so his brain can grow properly. So, in this particular moment, the juxtaposition between the present and future seems at once both blurry and sharply jagged, like a young child's drawing of a ferocious and absurd dinosaur. By the time you read this message, the surgery will be complete, so writing this message right now feels a bit surreal, as I'm looking straight into the blinding light of the future's fragile unknown.

And yet, is this moment any different from ANY other moment, really? Physical science dictates that we can see everyday objects because of the light that is reflected onto them. If we look directly into the light source itself, our vision is distorted, and all we see are vague shapes, shadows, and outlines.

It's the same thing with time. Of course, we actually never know what the next moment will bring; the future can never be more than an outline. We don’t know what might happen that could change everything in an instant. When we can wrap our heads around this, we slowly come to realize that as much time as we spend worrying about it, the future really isn’t what truly matters most of all. In fact, what matters by far over anything else, is living for and living in these moments around us.

While making plans for the future certainly has its place, it is when we begin to stare longingly into the future's light, instead of looking lovingly at what's right in front of us, that we begin to take life for granted. I know I have often struggled with this myself, and the best way I know to avoid this and to keep focused on the beauty of what today offers, is to focus on love. For me, especially these days with his big surgery days away, it’s my love for Kai that instantly brings me back to these sparkly, shimmering moments at hand. But we don’t need an urgent health matter to do this all the time. You can have simple sweet love for a favorite pen you use to write in your journal, or a favorite place to walk, or even the smell of the air right before and after it rains.

A few evenings ago, after Kai was asleep, I was reading an essay about time and perception, and I read a line that said, "The measurement of time depends on the speed at which you move." Well, I mis-read it, and thought it said, "The measurement of time depends on the speed at which you love." I laughed to myself, closed the book, and pulled Kai's baby monitor close to my ear, and did nothing but listen to him breathe. Now, if the measurement of time did in fact depend on the ‘speed’ at which I was loving him just then, then there’s a good chance the clocks went haywire, and I’m actually writing this letter to you from a point far off in the future.

Hopefully back on earth in 2010, you too can travel at the speed of love for those dearest to you, and fly to the ends of the universe in your own cozy time machine :-)

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Marney K. Makridakis is the founder of ArtellaLand.com and the inventor of the ARTbundance Philosophy, which usesARTsignments™ to change lives through the power of creativity.   If you are intrigued by the idea of exploring a new vision for yourself in which you apply the ARTbundance™ philosophy andARTsignments™ to your own professional dreams and goals, you are invited to apply for the next ARTbundance™ Certification Training (ACT), beginning in April 2011.