These days spent inside, stuck in self-isolation, feel oppressive. I can’t read the news without feeling like the sky is falling – there’s more of everything bad. More confirmed cases, more death, more businesses shutting their doors. It doesn't seem like there's a lot of good out there, and yet…
And yet, the cherry blossoms continue to bloom, the birds continue to sing, and all around me, nature carries on as if nothing has changed. Because in some ways, it hasn’t.
And yet, when I imagine riding my bike on the quiet streets, the wind against my face feels even more liberating than it did before.
And yet, I have more time to spend with my kids. We talk and read together and play for hours on end. I've learned more about them in these few weeks than I probably would have in months with our old schedule.
And yet, without the commute and extracurricular activities and shuttling everyone in the family to-and-fro, I suddenly have time to connect with old friends. We meet via video conference, drink in-hand, and laugh and share stories as we did all those years ago.
And yet, my children now talk to their grandmother every day. They share little insights into their small world. What they're doing, what they like, what they're reading. Trivial things, but the best sort of things to know about someone you love.
And yet, every day I read stories of neighbours helping one another. People reaching out to community members in need. Business pivoting and retooling to meet a market demand that didn’t even exist a month ago.
And yet, when I lay outside and look at the stars, I can't help but be reminded of how small we are, and how long our history is, and how this is not the first tragedy we've endured. There has been war, and famine, and pandemics, and all sorts of misery. But we've always come out OK. Life has always found a way.
So this is my call to arms, my battle cry, encouraging all of you to fight back. Not against the virus itself, that battle can only be fought with vaccines and social distancing. No, I mean fight back against the demons in your head. Fight back against the notion that normal will never return, or that the new normal couldn't possibly be better than the old one. It can. If this experience has taught me anything, it's that maybe I need to reassess what I think is truly important.
I intend to ambush the future with outrageous positivity and run at the darkness, kicking and screaming, until it bleeds daylight. Will you join me?