2020 is Hindsight

Everything seems different.

Apocalyptic, catastrophic, alarmingly surreal.

These are the days of the unprecedented. Unrivaled as an infectious collective memory, boundless as a global war zone, the kind that takes us to ground zero.

Days of sorrow, distance, dizzying haze, solitary confinement.  Mental analysis paralysis.

This is the curse of The Corona Virus, the pandemic calamity we are told is sweeping lives by the thousands, dragging the world’s economy by trillions, tearing all plans, all while flaunting a crown as if wanting us to bow and curtsy. 

Isolation seems our only armor, eyes wide open, doors closed shut, the only contact is thyself. 

Add resistance to fear. There’s no way out, dare to dive in, see what you see, but stay solo.

Every day seems like the next – worrying loops of watching and waiting. Let me dream that curve go flat.

Will this fear go away? Will we see the light of day? Remember last month? Don’t you miss us? Do you need to hug me or pray together, particularly if you never have?  I do.

I also want to be better before we meet again. I want to be a better me so that we can be a better we.
I want to honor the dead with my legacy for life. I want us to turn the ugly shadow of disease into a sea of  better times to come.  

There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow men, Hemingway wrote.  

Ask anyone who loved ones this year, either from Covid or its related and growingly strange complications which seem to be all. 

Ask every  exhausted healthcare worker if they know the nationality or the political affiliations of humanity when there are minutes left to save lives.  They don’t. They rise above.

This is the grandiosity of the human spirit – God-given, unbiased, unprejudiced, universal, never fragile but faithful till the end.

Can we meet there?

Don’t think twice. 2020 is hindsight.