Live from Cairoston

3mr is a moment

I’m having a peculiar experience with my 3 year-old. Early on, he had demonstrated an ability to make rather mature facial and body expressions that articulate pretty complex feelings. He really does seem like a little man. When I reflect on this, I come away thinking that for him to coordinate all those muscles at the right time with such precision, probably means that he is fully aware of the emotions he conveys. Omar’s will is well articulated, beyond his age. The result of this is that I could see in him his physical appearance and character at older ages. Sometimes I drift, and extrapolate his expressions and see an adult chilling with his friends, or in his own world in his room, or paying a lot of attention to something he’s working on. And I could see, quite often, a younger adult getting into arguments with peers and having the resilience to stand his ground. Frequently, for some reason, I also see in him a fallen solider in my arms, and other times, a faithful son, assisting his now frail father. Its all there, in the way he carries himself from very early on. All there is, it seems, is to see it materialize.

This compaction of time coincides with his name coming from the same root as Life (3/M/R). el3umr la7za (life is a moment), someone said. That person, my son, seems to me to already be there, its all there, but it takes a lifetime to process, correct intuitions, and develop new ones. Time now seems like the rate at which my senses can process what is beyond them. I feel like the lower half of an hour glass, and the neck from which sand trickles is the combination of my senses. The sand is all there already, in the upper half the hour glass, but it takes “time” for it to pass to my half.

Time is more like an anticipation; an anticipation for the next grain of sand to fall upon you.

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