We like to call them ‘trying times’, but perhaps we will look back on them one day and call them something else. If you look hard enough, this is a time of hope. Look around you, find beauty in human response; in fear, in kindness, in survival. It’s easy to get swept up in the wave of panic and fear but the current slows with every good deed. There is poetry in human kindness.
The neighbours decorated our shared fence with colourful lights, over that fence we pass the cakes we baked or the vegetables we grew. I watch a lady delivering groceries to the elderly down my street. Even the internet seems to be working in harmony; community on a global scale. We talk to our friends and family, perhaps now more than ever before. We recommend our favourite songs, films and books, sharing our little pieces of joy. Our favourite musicians give virtual concerts, performing and asking for no more in return than to make some people smile. We all sing along, sharing the same melody.
With all of this empty space we find things to fill it. New hobbies, new skills, knowledge and passion take up the gaps in our months here. We come out of our rooms, play games like we used to and watch the films we loved when we were kids. Live television airs with no audience but the millions at home smile to themselves at the ways in which we stay afloat. Outside we still smile, we keep our distance but exchange a glance, wrought with the odd sensation of shared knowledge. We aren’t strangers anymore. In this town I see people chatting across roads from windows and doorways. I see conversations pass through bungalow windows. We refuse to let barriers be barriers and we survive.
On the news, statistics creep ever higher and we are reminded to stay safe. This is where fear resides: in the headlines. When we’re watching it all unfold through the screen, it’s easy to lose sight of what is happening around you. There are still worries hiding in the backs of our minds, we often find ourselves asking one another if we’re alright but we don’t yet know the answer. The future is unclear so all we can focus on is the here and the now. This virus takes over the globe but community still thrives, so give praise. Perfectly imperfect crayon drawings of rainbows appear in windows, a sign of hope from our children. We light candles in our windows as a gesture of love for those we can’t visit. Late at night we stand on our doorsteps and give a round of applause to the NHS, a symphony of gratitude. There are breaks in the bad news, signs of hope for our planet as the water in Venice grows clear and the smog in China gives way. Give thanks to key workers who help keep the world spinning. Give thanks to schools who provide support from afar and remind us to be resilient. How ironic it is that, in a time when distance is the priority, we have never been closer. This is a kind of unity we may never see again so be thankful for what we can take from it.
This, of course, isn’t the story for everyone. Those who have suffered and those who have lost will see no beauty in these simple things. We must not turn our backs and abuse our privilege. People have lost their lives not only to a virus, but to careless acts of ignorance. Follow the rules you are given. I don’t need to tell you what they are, you’re sick of hearing it. There are ways to stop the spread, remember those we have lost and let them be reason enough to do your part. Let the kindness you see around you be your incentive to protect humanity. We are beginning to realise how important the people in our lives really are, now that we're apart. If you do your bit you will get to see them again when all of this is over.
We thought our lives were on hold but really, they keep on moving as we strive to find hope. When there is no light, we make our own. The cynic in me wants to say that it’s disappointing we only found kindness in a global crisis. But I'd rather we see the value of one another in these, so-called ‘trying times’. There is something beautiful in the way we survive. We keep on surviving in the only ways we know how: a bag of groceries on the doorstep, lights along a fence, conversations through windows. If it is hope you are looking for then this is what it looks like: acts of love
happening every day.
By Caitlin Kelly.
The neighbours decorated our shared fence with colourful lights, over that fence we pass the cakes we baked or the vegetables we grew. I watch a lady delivering groceries to the elderly down my street. Even the internet seems to be working in harmony; community on a global scale. We talk to our friends and family, perhaps now more than ever before. We recommend our favourite songs, films and books, sharing our little pieces of joy. Our favourite musicians give virtual concerts, performing and asking for no more in return than to make some people smile. We all sing along, sharing the same melody.
With all of this empty space we find things to fill it. New hobbies, new skills, knowledge and passion take up the gaps in our months here. We come out of our rooms, play games like we used to and watch the films we loved when we were kids. Live television airs with no audience but the millions at home smile to themselves at the ways in which we stay afloat. Outside we still smile, we keep our distance but exchange a glance, wrought with the odd sensation of shared knowledge. We aren’t strangers anymore. In this town I see people chatting across roads from windows and doorways. I see conversations pass through bungalow windows. We refuse to let barriers be barriers and we survive.
On the news, statistics creep ever higher and we are reminded to stay safe. This is where fear resides: in the headlines. When we’re watching it all unfold through the screen, it’s easy to lose sight of what is happening around you. There are still worries hiding in the backs of our minds, we often find ourselves asking one another if we’re alright but we don’t yet know the answer. The future is unclear so all we can focus on is the here and the now. This virus takes over the globe but community still thrives, so give praise. Perfectly imperfect crayon drawings of rainbows appear in windows, a sign of hope from our children. We light candles in our windows as a gesture of love for those we can’t visit. Late at night we stand on our doorsteps and give a round of applause to the NHS, a symphony of gratitude. There are breaks in the bad news, signs of hope for our planet as the water in Venice grows clear and the smog in China gives way. Give thanks to key workers who help keep the world spinning. Give thanks to schools who provide support from afar and remind us to be resilient. How ironic it is that, in a time when distance is the priority, we have never been closer. This is a kind of unity we may never see again so be thankful for what we can take from it.
This, of course, isn’t the story for everyone. Those who have suffered and those who have lost will see no beauty in these simple things. We must not turn our backs and abuse our privilege. People have lost their lives not only to a virus, but to careless acts of ignorance. Follow the rules you are given. I don’t need to tell you what they are, you’re sick of hearing it. There are ways to stop the spread, remember those we have lost and let them be reason enough to do your part. Let the kindness you see around you be your incentive to protect humanity. We are beginning to realise how important the people in our lives really are, now that we're apart. If you do your bit you will get to see them again when all of this is over.
We thought our lives were on hold but really, they keep on moving as we strive to find hope. When there is no light, we make our own. The cynic in me wants to say that it’s disappointing we only found kindness in a global crisis. But I'd rather we see the value of one another in these, so-called ‘trying times’. There is something beautiful in the way we survive. We keep on surviving in the only ways we know how: a bag of groceries on the doorstep, lights along a fence, conversations through windows. If it is hope you are looking for then this is what it looks like: acts of love
happening every day.
By Caitlin Kelly.