It finally hit me. There was no church last Sunday; I mean, physically. I am not going to circumvent it but it felt weird. Like lemon rubbing against an open wound. It burnt like hell, digging a whole down my soul, not even I could penetrate. Pardon me, for my amore relationship with the Man Up there. We are buds. We talk everyday. And it feels good.
I woke up a tad confused, couldn’t tell a tale from a tale. I run through my memory box and it too couldn’t tell the day for a second there. Attended the service online but the emptiness overloaded the air. It felt dull, dry, insipid. Temporary as it may be, it is an extraordinary and challenging time we are experiencing with one’s psych left in limbo and at the mercy of an impalpable avalanche, playing an invisible game of sorts with a wait and see train about to dock. In some ways we call this faith. To have faith that soon or later, if we all camouflage and protect ourselves long enough, it will soon go ashtray. Yesterday appears to be so, yesterday. I mean, it will but when.
I can just see the movie plot – the beast jumping from soul to soul masquerading as an invisible man tapping into each of us mercifully, without care, like the wind blowing by, leaving restless souls tiptoeing to find a mat to lay on, with police cars sirens going bunkers waking up the sleeping ant from her winter hibernation. Yeah, I see it but popcorn on my hand I don’t have, quarantined I am, really?!
Being quarantined reminds me of spiritual retreats. It usually runs for a whole week or weekend with individuals leaving their every means of communication behind, secluding themselves to complete isolation, in community and prayer, breaking out only for some alone time where individuals are encouraged to write and share their thoughts and concerns. Yeah, I have been to one; it is refreshing.
Some of us haven’t left our homes for weeks now, seen our families even if leaving across the street, others in different countries with borders closed. Yes, a make believe fantasy prison surrounded by invisible barbwires is in vogue but as life will have it, the story comes with its own narrative.
The storyline calls for us to be grateful for what we have, the beautiful period we live in, courtesy of the world today. There is the internet, social media and their subsidiaries, aka whatever float your boat, pick one Facebook, Voom, Instagram, WhatsApp, Skype… they are all telling you stories, your stories, the chatrooms without touching. Imagine, we can assemble a choir without ever be present. We can visit a museum without setting a foot on the building. As the eyes can see, ears can hear but cannot touch. It sounds good to me.
As we find ourselves spread across the globe, let’s wave and be compassionate to each other. Say hello without the hello or care. Pray for those who have lost their lives, are laying in hospitals bed or at home, towns, countries, all those affected by this craze in every capacity, form or norm. Mercifully praise an healthcare professional, a doctor, a nurse, nurse assistant, the janitor, whoever, just give them a virtual hug. Let’s take time and reflect on what is important, understand humans and the human race, ourselves, our neighbor, a stranger. Remind ourselves where we have been, where we are going and where we intend to be. Let’s take a minute, easy, breathe, relax and not think about the unnecessary, unwanted but what we can’t control. Let’s live today, tomorrow, day by day, enjoy what we have as it reveals itself to us and since we are quarantine, isolated like a fish in a bubble, let’s count our blessings, even if it takes an hour, a day, just be grateful. It doesn’t cost a thing. It is cheap. Say thank you often as tomorrow shall speak.