It’s just one month, I tell myself.
After one month, things will get better.
You’ve booked a staycation in May (with flexible cancellation dates. Just in case).
You’ll get to meet your friends again and sit in the cafes to have coffee and people watch through window seats. In the meantime, you can still journal at home. You can make art. Music. Read. You have Zoom. And Skype. You can finally do all the online courses you’ve always wanted to do but never had the time for. You’ll have all the downtime you’ve always dreamed off and not have to feel guilty about it! You’re not going to be bored to death. You’ve always been able to find things to do at home. It’s just the mindset of having to stay at home now that’s making you anxious and feeling trapped. And that’s understandable.
It’s ok to feel scared and anxious, AND also remember that we don’t have to panic and that this will pass. We’re in the storm now, knowing that this storm won’t last forever.
Collective grieving is taking place.
We are grieving the loss of normalcy, the loss of the lives we could be living.
Even though the period of these measures is supposed to last only a month, I think there’s a part of us that says: “What if?”
What if it lasts more than a month?
What if it becomes a full-blown lockdown?
What if this never ends?
What if we never know “normal” as we once did again?
And so we do what any human being with feelings would do.
It felt like such a long time since I took the camera out to take pictures of lovely things and spaces. Much needed connection with the simple and beautiful things.
A place to be not-so-social.
When pretty ones make your day.
It is ok
Even if your days look like endless walks
through the forests of your mind.
There is still beauty –
in the walking,
in the going on,
in the moving forward,
in the seeking for something you’re not quite sure you’re going to find.
There is still beauty in all of that.
I sat in front of the images and looked at them for a long time.
Long enough for the kind curator to cautiously approach me and say: “These are abstract images.”
Perhaps she thought I was trying too hard to make sense of them.
And I was… I was trying to make my own meaning out of what I saw.
As we often try to do in life.