Saw this today in the Twitter-verse:

“Remind Me When COVID Is Over” - a single-use website that lets you put in your email address and the promises you made about habits, behaviors, values, etc that you were going to live once things returned to “normal”. Site then sends you the email when COVID vaccine is discovered. ~ @hunterwalk

What a great idea! Just as things are starting to feel pretty gloomy. The lingering questions in the air seems to be: 

Can life ever return to normal again?

Will we be able to walk out of our house and feel safe?

Can we travel again without worrying about our health?

What about shaking hands, hugging, kissing, and other embodied etiquette that makes us human?

At least for me, all the time indoors had me wondering that. And it’s not a nice place to hang out. That’s why when I saw that tweet, it helped shake me out of it a little, and offered a little ray of light amidst the brewing thunder clouds. Find hope, we must. Somehow. 

“Remind me when COVID is over” and that idea of that single-use website got me thinking about the future in a brighter way: 

What do you immediately want to do after the storm is over?

Who would you run to, say, the minute you get a vaccine shot?

Where do you want to go, what foods do you want to eat?

When all these is over, I want to just go to the mall, or a really popular cafe, or a farmer’s market, and just be with crowds of people. Without worry for my health, or the health of my loved ones. All the while breathing in and out deeply and calmly, without a mask. At the end of all this, I want to hang out with my family and friends more, in person. Just to catch-up, even for the most lame reasons. No other agenda. Without suspicion. And definitely with all the requisite handshakes, hugs etc. When all is said and done, I want to return to my old haunts—small, neighbourhood bookstores, cafes, bakeries, shops—checking to see if they’re still alive, like visiting an old friend. And if they are, to help them pick up their business bit by bit, by patronising them one visit at a time. 

Just the little things. No huge ambitions, goals, travel destinations, to-dos like when before the pandemic. Just the mundane stuff.  

It’s funny how an overnight crisis can change your perspective about how you want to live your life, and what you treasure. But sometimes such talk can feel flaky and naive, for who knows, that when normalcy returns, I might forget that the really essential things that I treasured were not my shiniest material accumulations, nor my biggest ambitions for work. 

Who knows really?

But for now, in this tiny blimp in my short, short life, I shall hold on to that little epiphany of hope in the little things.

Remind me this when COVID is over, please.