The last few weeks have been hard. And for once, I can honestly say that it’s been just as hard, mostly harder for majority of the world. When I think about all of us going through this huge challenge in front of us, I feel small. I know that I am luckier than many, that I am blessed enough to have a safe place to live in, where I do not have to worry about food, where I am surrounded with love, where I am protected. While on the other hand, there are millions of people who are not in that position. And I’ll be honest, as thankful as I am, I do feel guilty too. I’ve spent a lot of the last few weeks sulking, crying, and ranting about having my life suddenly put on pause; a very violent one at that. Every time I feel like I am a little better, it seems I am thrown backward again and it is exhausting. I’ve prayed about it, written about it, screamed about it and broken down about it. But while I’m here feeling down about my life having come to a halt, it would be unfair of me to not give even a single thought about the people whose lives have not halted but have stopped, the families who have lost without a goodbye, the health care workers whose lives have not paused for but possibly sped up with a ton of danger, the sanitary workers risking their health every day, the organizations and activists constantly working to try and make it better, and the leaders who are facing potentially the biggest health crisis as billions of lives hang in the balance. And suddenly, perspective shifts. Because, if all these people keep going, it can only mean one thing: that there is solid untainted hope. That all of this is only temporary. That one day we will say we survived; one day we can stand together and say we came out stronger.
This is not to say that my problems or your problems are undermined, but that if the whole world can hope to heal, than surely we can too.
So, sulk if you must, cry it out, whine a lot if you feel, rant, be angry but pick yourself up and keep hoping; hope with your humanity intact. And even though every thing seems out of focus (see what I did there? *cringe*), that there’s always a clearer day on the horizon. And we can’t stop now.