On The Change

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I haven’t written a single word since it started because I don’t have anything to say. It feels like all of my twisting and horizon watching these past months manifested into something so much worse than what I could have imagined. No, I am not so self-idolizing to believe I could manifest something like this, but it is true when I say I knew something was coming. I just didn’t know from where. I just could not have imagined this.

For someone who is admittedly nostalgic, ruminative, confused, and sometimes just plain sad; I am not a person of fear. And yet, I find myself crying in the rain, afraid for my parents and my sister, and the fever I imagine I have but do not. The mind, I am learning more than ever, is a powerful thing. If I can think myself sick, can I think myself out of love?

Whatever I was worried about before seems small and far away now – questions I had are like trying to make echoes in a storm. They have nothing to catch, nothing to bounce off of. The landscape has so entirely changed and we do not yet know the new rules. I read somewhere – it won’t always be like this. And while that is true, it will also never be the same. There is also goodness in this.

I watch the waves come in pearly blue sets, white wash that rolls and crawls toward the untouched sand. The beach remains empty, the streets quiet save for a lawn mower not to far away. The water is so constant I think sometimes I don’t hear it anymore. I sit with my dog who hears everything and we both fit in the chair together. There used to be swimmers in the morning but I haven’t seen any this week.

I still do not have anything to say, just a recording I suppose that I am here. That we are all still here even if this change feels abrupt and strange and wrong in so many ways. But, it is not wrong. It is right. How do we know? Because it is happening. We have so much to learn – I think I’ll pick up a guitar and try to remember the things I swore I would never forget.


image by @sdcoraggio

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