I Yet Dare to Hope

There is Much to Say

It's getting late. A chill is seeping into this fire-lit room, and, outside, the darkness deepens. But if you'll just stay with me a little longer, I promise I'll make it worth your while.
Come, sit next to me. There's so much I want to say. Right there will do, in that worn old armchair with stuffing bursting from the seams. Are you comfortable?
Good.
Allow me to begin.
Do you remember when the world was alive? When the streets and the schools and the stores were filled with people? With the sound of human voices speaking of a thousand different things? The sound of laughter, the hurrying of footsteps, the bustle of life?
Do you remember what it was like before everyone was afraid? Before they had reason to be afraid?
Before no one left their house accept for work or food?
It wasn't so long ago, was it? And yet... those times have come to seem so foreign, so distant, although, if we were to stop and think, they were nearly only yesterday.
Many people are afraid right now. And they have every right to be. Something that is beyond our control has come upon us. Something that hit us so suddenly, so unexpectedly, we never had a chance to prepare for it.
Humans fear the unknown and always have. The fact that right now not only the future, but also the present, seem so uncertain has given rise to an even greater sense of alarm. We feel helplessness strip us of any power we felt we had, feel doubt snatch away bits of our sanity as it whispers "You cannot hope. You cannot hope. You cannot hope." Anger storms within the deepest parts of us, anger at not knowing enough and knowing too much at the same time, anger at things lost that we wanted and things gained that we didn't. And fear. Fear screams at the top of its lungs, filling our ears, our minds, our hearts, until it claims our entire being. Infects us. Takes away our life. More people have fallen victim to and lost themselves, their lives, to fear, than to the virus that now haunts the world.
Some of us are still in shock, haven't processed exactly what's going on yet. For those of us still in this state, everything seems normal, but also... it doesn't.
The isolation is draining us of our sanity. Quarantine has made us feel trapped. To be in our houses without the freedom to go out, to continue as normal... It is one of the strangest feelings.
This is what we feel. And that is okay. We have every right to feel the way that we do.
We are afraid that things will never return to normal. And they won't. Things will never be quite the same again. But since the world began, there have been events that have changed the course of humanity forever. Things such as the two World Wars, the events of September 11th, and so on. Often horrible things. Things that make everyone stop in their tracks, things that make the world that we thought we knew seem frighteningly unfamiliar, things that make us uncertain of what tomorrow might bring, things that make it seem like the world cannot go on. But guess what? It has and it will. We will find a new normal. It might take a while. We are still going through some sad and frightening days. This is not the end.
We have more control over things than we realize. Not of the virus, no, because that is beyond the control of the majority of the human race, as most of us have no expertise in the medical field. And those of us who are in the medical field are now faced with something unprecedented and because of that, have no idea what to do. But we still have the ability to take care of ourselves and of others. We can reach out to each other in this time. Unify. When we are ready, of course. You are under no obligation to do this if you do not feel comfortable doing so. As for taking care of yourself, this is more needful perhaps than ever. Yes, wash your hands and all that, but look after yourself mentally too. Times are hard right now, and it is alright if you need time to process. It is grief, in a way- grief for a sense of normalcy lost.
The same is true of our current situation as is true of all world changing events- it can either divide us or bring us all together. It can breed hostility or it can breed compassion. Can feed selfishness or selflessness. All these things are paradoxically true.
Know, in the meantime, it is okay to cry or scream or whatever you need to do to get everything out. Know also that things will not be better in an instant. It will take time. But things will get better.
And if, since quarantine began, you are now trapped in a horrible situation because your home, your life for some reason, is not safe- you are not alone either. You do not deserve what is happening to you. I beg you, to the best of your ability, to stay safe. I am quite sure that you already are doing your best. And I am so, so sorry that your life was like this before. And that it is nearly impossible to get away from it now. Please, please do not hurt yourself. And there is no need to be ashamed if you do, if you can't help it, because you are going through a lot right now. But please, please be careful with yourself. You are precious. You matter. Even if you don't believe it. Please hold on. Please. I beg you. Just a little longer. Life gets better. It will be an uphill climb, but someday you will stand on the mountaintop and the view before you will be amazing. Dazzling. Splendid. I promise. I've been where you are too. It gets better. It really does.
I know that I have talked for a long time, but will you bear with me a little longer?
You will?
Alright.
Things are hard right now. For us all. They'll be hard for a while yet. A wonderful thing about hard experiences is that they can open our eyes. Little by little, we will be able to see things that we could not before. Without a little rain, a plant could never grow. A bit cliché, I know, but true nonetheless.
Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. We're all going through something. Together. We are not alone in our struggle.
It's getting late. A chill is seeping into this fire-lit room and, outside, the darkness deepens. But would you look at that? The night sky is filled with little pinpoints of light. Not all is dark. Not all is dark.