There are days when I feel a bit invincible in my own home. Cocooned in my little bungalow where it’s just my husband, my son and two scruffy dogs. When I know it’s okay and I’m okay, and despite the news, the world is okay, too.
There are days when I feel low. Dropped to the bottom of a steep incline and slammed into the seat, jolted, breathless, and ready to get off now, please.
This is a roller coaster we can’t just leave. There’s no escape hatch. There’s no emergency off switch, and that makes us feel aimless. Like we’re just here for the ride, but we’re not actually required for the journey.
Schools are closed through the rest of the school year. The stay at home order is in place for many until May 1st – for now. I walk through my neighborhood and prickle when I see someone on the same side of the street, walking the same sidewalk. I take a wide berth, reroute, and feel lonelier when the dogs tug back, wanting to greet, and me just wanting more space.
It’s easy to feel a little defeated. To want to sit down, right here, and just stop. Not cry because that would mean you were still fighting. No – just sit, just let it all pass you by, because this coaster is going fast on the loops and the dips and you aren’t the one manning the controls.
Without vision we perish. Right now a lot of us are getting vision confused with existence. Existence is what we do to survive. Vision is what we need to prosper and thrive. And even in a season of collective cocooning, we must have vision or we’ll just ride.
The real question for many not on the frontlines of this fight isn’t what should we do to survive – it’s who will we be if we do?
Time isn’t going to stop.
We’re not just gonna pick up in a few months where we left off. Too much will have happened, and even though this pause touches everyone, we as individuals must still carry on. In our homes, in our work, dreaming our dreams, doing our deeds by whatever means possible — by innovation and with determination.
We must keep our eyes like flint on the vision, however we can, because even though it will surely tarry, it will still arrive.
The roller coaster of this pandemic will one day come to an end, but who we will be when we get out of the car, stretch our legs, and take the first steps into the new normal, is still up for debate.
Faith is not a passive thing. Faith is an action word. It is alive and it requires our participation.
Whatever you have to do – whether it’s make a mask, clean your house, rock your baby, call you mother, write your words – keep doing it and don’t let this pause convince you that you aren’t still here for a reason, for such a time as this. ❤︎