If I’m honest, I’m feeling pretty small at the moment.
I guess all of us are dealing with overwhelming practical challenges, and the emotions, of being flung into a reality that none of us really know how to feel or think about.
My initial response to the looming crisis surprised me. In a “fight or flight” scenario, I normally take the “flight” path. This time, however, I desperately wanted to be useful. To help. To fight.
But, as the situation progressed and the scenes become more severe, and I realised how not in control anyone is, my sense of feeling not at all qualified to make any meaningful contribution increased. On a physical level, this requires weapons that I simply don’t have.
And that’s where I am today.
Confronted with how little I can do. How small I am. How fragile we are.
I’m doing what the global health community, and our government, says we should do, even if we may not be able to directly fight in the front-lines of this virus war.
The instructions are simple enough: Stay home. For 21 days. For now. To flatten the curve.
This small act, I can do.
I am blessed to be in a space where I do feel safe, and at peace.
Where I have a sliding door that opens onto a small patch of garden, and a view of mountains from all the windows, with sunshine streaming in. With the breeze as a reminder that the ocean is mere meters away.
I know I am fortunate.
I can stay home, and choose how to structure this time.
Albeit feeling small, and insignificant, today.
I realise that the key to significant impact in this time rests in collective action. When we do this one thing, together, the results are hopefully, eventually, profound. I do get that the least all of us can do is: Stay home. Stop the spread.
But, I’m struggling with the idea of that being all I should be doing.
Our world is forever changing, and changing forever.
I’m starting to tap into a narrative that frames this time as a wake-up call: The crucial moment for global economic transition, engaging with climate change response ideology.
But those are not my thoughts or insights yet, and there are multiple sentiments that one might echo – with political intrigues that I am not privy to.
In most of the conversations flying about it seems like people think that this is either a) the End (as in, the Daniel / Revelation type end), or b) a once-in-a-generation opportunity for global realignment, once the battle is won.
There is deep significance in both those options. I am unqualified to unpack either. This is merely a place to put jumbled words while my own thoughts are still forming. And the battle on the medical front-lines are still raging.
I do appreciate the emerging narrative that points towards an opportunity for a global restart, with economic stimulus strategies that prioritise sustainable (as in, green) economic growth models. I will delve into that line-of-thought on a professional level in the weeks to come. To actually figure out what that means.
I simply don’t know how to phrase the sense of almost grasping something of a vision, yet.
For as long as I am able, I am determined to use this time well. Read. Learn. Connect. Share.
But for now, on a quiet Sunday afternoon at home, I find joy in small mercies: Easter eggs. Sunshine on clean white sheets. Whatsapp group calls. 6pm pilates (every day as the sun sets behind the mountain, for 30 minutes). Always, music.
I’m learning to find significance in the small.
While praying for the world, and waiting to see what these drastic signs of the times will deliver, and figuring out what my own true convictions about the possibilities of a new world emerging, are.
Should there be one, and I be spared for it.
Deo volente.
Selah.
Tapestry of Thought 