So long as we still have memories, each of us eventually becomes a time traveler. When I walk down a NYC street, I can see how it looked 20 years ago as clearly as I can see the way it is now. And when I speak to someone I’ve known a while, I can see all the ways they once looked, talked, and felt as easily as I can see who they are at this moment. I’ve always known our bodies are time travelers–that they store every feeling and experience we’ve had and translate them into ailments and strengths. Lately I think our minds are, too. Einstein said, “The only reason for time is so everything doesn’t happen at once” but he was only talking about chronos, or linear time. In kairos, or soul time, everything does happen at once, and none of those things change unless spiritual progression occurs.
I woke up early for the first time in months, wrote for two hours, and then bounced down to the coffee shop to fetch a laaarge americano. The winter sun was bright if distant (like so many of my lovers; like me, arguably), the Brand New Heavies were blasting in my ears–“I like it!”–and I felt positively ecstatic that all I had to do was duck back home, throw open the windows, and write some more on a topic I genuinely find interesting. It’s amazing what a difference a day makes. Having finally fixed the 