And then, all of a sudden, the world is turned upside down. Supermarkets are empty. Planes have stopped flying. Restaurants have stopped serving. Schools have closed their doors. Hospitals are running out of beds and masks. Elderly are dying. People are either scared or in denial. Deployments get extended. Loved ones are busy trying to keep the world safe.
The world is turned upside down. I cannot hug my friends anymore. I miss touch. I miss Man. I can no longer go out for fun, distractions or to emerge myself in a sea of strangers to feel less alone. I have to stay at home. But home is empty. There is Maxi but the conversation is fairly one-sided, and she can only stand so many of my attempts to express love by holding her in a headlock cuddle. I cannot visit my elderly uncles – the only family nearby - for fear of them getting sick. I cannot call Man at random hours to chat about random things. Man is very, very busy over there with the current circumstances, trying to keep our troops healthy and safe. And as he is so, so needed there, we will have to miss him for an extra couple months.
The world is turned upside down. I can pause and reflect. Remember what is really important. Feel compassion for those in real need and isolation, those who lost their jobs and those without access to medical services or even a safe place to be. I can work hard, helping my employer adapt to the changes. I can teach and look my students in the eye and connect, albeit via a screen. I can make a valuable contribution to their continuing educational journey. I can read books. I can dance around the house. I can take Maxi on long morning walks in nature. I can see my friends and laugh and cry together and chat for hours, albeit via a screen. I can write blogs, make gift packages, share and care. I can lie in the hammock and watch the colours of the tree in our garden turn fiery red, orange and yellow to welcome autumn.
The world is turned upside down. Dolphins have returned to the waters of Venice. Mother Nature is breathing again. People have stopped and remembered. Remembered what is important. The joys of cooking and a long family dinner. Making music with neighbours from balconies. Playing with children. Learning a new language, sowing a scarf, writing a love letter. Discovering genuine gratitude for all that we have and a realisation that we need much less than we think.
The world has turned upside down. It has slowed down. It is healing. The world is beautiful.