Long ago (around the first of March), in a different life time in a different world I wrote a flippant little piece about shopping at Trader Joe’s where everyone was stocking up for the endow the world. Of course, then we thought the end of the world would involve simply a shortage of toilet paper. We didn’t know.
I’m glad I didn’t hit publish on that piece, because the truth is too sad. All around the planet people are sick and sometimes dying and all most of us can do to help is to just stop doing anything.
So, we’ve all just — stopped.
For the first month of my inside only life it all seemed just unbearably sad to me. But two days ago is occurred to me that the silence was not the quiet of abandonment but was instead an act of noiseless love. All of us– or mostly all of us–all around the globe are joining together. When you think of it that way, it’s a miracle.
The polluted skies above us are clearing. They say you can see the Himalayas again in India and that oceanographers hear clearly now the singing of whales.
We are all holding our breath, waiting for the new era–whatever it will be–to begin. The new normal.
