After a moment of uncertainty, my girls were in the safety of my arms.
“Again! Again!” they shouted.
Earlier this year, prior to my brain tumour issues, they sat on my lap when we went down the “big supertube” slide. However at the time they were not so keen on it and prefer to enjoy the smaller tube and more “subdued” waterslides.
Now, 9 months on, we were back for our summer holidays in Hartenbos. After plenty of rides on the “Junior Supertube” and with the new confidence they found playing in the waves, I thought we may try the bigger ride again. However this time, with life jackets on and daddy going first. I left them at the top with a bit of uncertainty and some anxiety to take on the new challenge. My 7 year old (nearly 8) came flying out from the tunnel first, unable to hide her anxiety, her eyes trying to find me in the pool and tears swelling up. My five year old found a moment to grab her nose before been flung into the white stream of water. Both of them were in my arms within seconds given the strength of the water pushing them towards me. The tears quickly vanished and screams of pleasure replaced all signs of fear and apprehension. “Again! Again!” rang out as a war cry against those feelings of uncertainty, as a spontaneous team credo to take them to similar heights of excitement.
It is moments like this that all the uncertainty, fears and times of darkness get washed away and their young voices conquer and replace the voice of anxiety that occasionally haunts my mind. The past year’s memories were recycled. It is the pure joy and excitement in their eyes. Not only from the adrenaline rush from the water and speed sliding down, but from conquering a challenge they didn’t know they were able to do in March of this year. It adds to my life.
It is similar to the joy and exuberance I get from facing the challenges that the ocean roles towards me. To dive underneath or through a white rolling wave. To jump over a crumbling triangle of water moving towards you. On the lookout for the one that will grab hold of you, embrace you and run you towards the white sand.Those experiences fill my senses and consume mind to the extent that no other thoughts can enter.
Life is present in these moments. In the water’s power, the saltiness in your mouth and nose, the moment of lifting your head for air gasping for air and the moment of pure happiness in my daughters’ eyes. Again! Again! I shout.In between these life affirming events and today (23rd of December), the Mayan’s prophecy about the proposed “End of the World” came and went. With all respect to the Mayans and all that they have achieved, it was not very apocalyptic or a very unusual day. Apart off course from us folk in the Southern hemisphere experiencing the shortest night, as we do ever year with the summer solace.
As a teenager the final chapter of history of mankind and the signs of the last days (eschatology) as well as the “uncovering of knowledge” about the final days (apocalypse) held me captive. I have however since shifted in my thinking and beliefs about this and cannot find any other word to describe my position about these things, be it Mayan, Nostradamus or from any fundamentalist position, as “vaguely amusing”. [I could write more on this, but in order to not venture too far away from my original script, not today!]. I find comfort in the concept that we may see the end of an era or the end of a rule (of say an empire), but that this world will only come to an end when the sun finally gives up the ghost.
Thus, the moments that we have with each other, the times that we capture with our senses, the wave that we ride onto the sand, the Eureka moment, when we conquer our fear, the first time we go down the big one. That moment that is present. Don’t I care about the future? Of course I do. My biggest anxieties (especially post diagnosis) relate to future. As do my dreams. I firmly believe in the power of our dreams, in becoming and growing into who we are meant to be. All of that relate to the future. But I don’t believe that all of a sudden the world will be without electricity or mobile phone signals. That we will be hurled into darkness and mankind be wiped off the planet. Not this week anyway.
The future is import, but it’s not under our control. The past is precious, but it does not pre-determine who we are or our future. We have the present moment that the past has given us and of which the future is expecting a response. We have moments that take us on an exciting water ride and moments like yesterday when I was attacked by bees while mowing the lawn (I am typing this with one swollen eye!) and then putting up the Christmas tree as a family. We have this and we can choose what to make of it. Even with one eye half closed, I will shout out, “Again! Again!”
So the end of the world passed us by and everyone that I love are accounted for. I don’t know what tomorrow will hold, but I am planning to give Christmas gifts to my wife, my daughters and my parents who are visiting. I am hoping to hear their laughter and to see the surprise in their eyes when opening their presents. I am hoping on and planning for a healthier 2013, but before then to enjoy the remaining moments of 2012. May you enjoy and be blessed with the same!