quarantine can feel like life as a caged parrot. news binges followed by check-in calls that regurgitate news binges. no wonder when asked “how are you doing?” the response often seems tethered to the weight of the world.
this notion of i’ll feel better when the entire human race feels better – is that empathy? or simply longing for the comfort of everything falling back into place?
this rupture in existence has called me to revisit the notion of unconditional love – a concept that i admit i haven’t dwelled on since vacation bible study. maybe it’s unfair for me to say this, but my upbringing in art and activism didn’t really make much space for unconditional love. despite the deep care that goes into the work, to be of those communities seem to require an action or ideal, a condition – to be in a struggle together, to be tuned into a creative vibration, to be of a chosen family.
the common enemy of a virus has been an incredible force for global empathy and togetherness, but the conditions of this bond have already begun to splinter. at least a couple times a day i shake my head at the people outside who hoard all the medical supplies, then i roll my eyes at those gallivanting and touching everything like this is a hall pass into the world. i’ve participated in the anger at political figures getting things wrong, and then exerted frustration at the people in my world who seem to have a vested interest in transmitting every triggering headline i’ve been trying to ignore or endure.
to love this world, others, and myself unconditionally means letting go of envisioning a life of vibrancy, thriving, and rejuvenation on the condition that the world returns to its comfortably, predictably distorted visage of normalcy. it means being open to today or tomorrow holding the possibility of being the best day ever, as did any other day when disease and isolation was only a reality for the distant and abstract and anonymous.
days like this need love too. days like this deserve to be savored, celebrated, and when reflected upon at sunset, called “good.”