Crisis

The news cycle twists and undulates, rises and falls with unpredictable tides, every alert is approached with caution. A new life begins to arrange and rearrange itself in our muscles: no more shopping, no more brunch on Sunday, get to know your roommates real well. A month from now you will either leave your partner or marry them, there may be no in between. Rumors float of imminent lockdowns, those inclined to panic remind you to get what you need, but haven't we all been hoarding for days, what more could we possibly want?

I take long walks, now, I climb bridges and cross rivers, I weave through skyscraped neighborhoods to find friendly faces, we are reduced to our most human selves: see and be seen, touch and be touched, be reminded who we are. The world is reduced to what I can reach on these two feet, but it also expands to bring to the tips of my fingers everyone in my phone book, this is a blessing. When we come out of this, blinking into the sunlight and surveying the strange land around us, don't think we will be the same as when we went in.

Don't think we won't have found miracles in the madness.