Committing To Being
It might not feel like it — in fact, it doesn’t in any way, shape or form in the present moment — but I hope that life will feel ‘normal' again. I haven’t a clue what that loaded, vague and wholly relative term means to me, to you, to anyone, nor how it will look or when any such moment may arrive. And referencing some sense of ‘normalcy' does not indicate that past realities or systems worked for the vast majority of individuals, society at large, even our planet. But I have to believe that there will be a day in the distant future when I don’t wake up pained, perplexed or panicked and have some grasp of what it will bring for me personally, for those I care about, for strangers, for businesses, for industries, for my city, for this nation, for global humanity. Until then, I'll continue to rise each day, recommit to being, to doing, to breathing, to healing, to serving, to just trying to get through, challenging as that may be without any clear road map, playbook or precedent. No one has been here, certainly not I — and I’d never wish these horrors upon a soul. While I think the grueling journey becomes slightly easier, perhaps I only grow more accepting of what is, seeking desperately to find glimmers of hope or slivers of progress, neither delusional about nor resigning myself to the devastating realities or ominous doom and gloom. Though nostalgic for what was and longing for what may be, I take nothing, no one and not a moment for granted. Keep going, Erin. Keep going, my friend. Keep going, world.