The last thing I dreamt before waking up this morning was being at some kind of conference of a gathering by the sea. It is something I recognize as a recurring dream: being with a group of people in a far-away place. Once it was a warm and futuristic city that looked like Singapore of my imagination, with slender white sky-scrappers and light-rail bridges everywhere. Once or twice it was Kyiv – every time I see it in my dreams, it is filled with golden lights and looks achingly familiar and futuristic at the same time. I remember that in that dream I was running around, trying to get the best view from above on the old city and its golden domes. Every time I dream about Kyiv, even now when I write about dreaming about Kyiv, it fills me with ache. Tonight I was at the seaside and the sea was warm and welcoming and although my days were filled with some agenda, I could rise up very early each morning and walk by the sea. I just made up my mind that the next morning I would take a towel with me and start the day with a dip, when I woke up, feeling happy and light.

The day then didn’t proceed as I expected it – it wasn’t bad or good, just an ordinary mixed day with moments of tenderness and laughter and periods of annoyance, with kids being alternately sweet and stubborn. But then we read a funny story before the bed and I nested myself next to my son to cuddle his feet and read to myself until he fell asleep. As I came to see my daughter, she was already asleep and looking at her peaceful still childlike face made me gasp with a familiar mix of love, tenderness and sadness.

This January I’ve been reading and listening and thinking about the two dimensions of time: chronos and Kairos. For me, Kairos happens every evening – it’s this moment when my kids’ breathing slows down and their little faces relax, their eyelids flutter then close and they drift to sleep. People often joke that we never love our kids as much as when they sleep, but it’s true on a deeper level. It is at that moment that time stops and we see their innocence so clearly and we are desperate to protect them from the world and from growing up and from million other things. It is pure Kairos: crisis, hope and opportunity all in one.