Dear Yuri,
It’s almost impossible to believe that the same sky you looked down to earth from many moons ago is the same one I’m seeing from my window tonight.
I figure you must have felt so small in that moment, from that perspective.
But you must have been feeling on top of the world too- quite literally.
The endless possibilities then…
At this moment, I feel like the only person on the planet.
I wish I could say that I feel grounded.
But the path I must navigate through self-isolation is filled with rocks and ominous clouds overhead. I am relying on so much more than gravity to keep me safe.
There was a novelty at first, an opportunity to plant a flag on our own little safe space, to fine tune the atmosphere around us. To get round to all those little things we’d been trying to get round to for ages.
There was some sense of peace amidst the media-meteor shower, a chance to stop for air and notice how bright the stars are sometimes, talk to the ones that shine for those no longer with us through this.
We keep busy with small victories while the other animals take back the Earth.
Satellites send signals so we can binge watch Netflix and video call for that work meeting.
But with day comes night: anxiety, helplessness, the black holes that suck us in to that place where time stands still.
Still, universal time ticks on without us and as we try to hang onto the faith that the sun will once again rise in our skies.
I wonder at that sky- and about how the world will look when this is over.
Curiosities awakened, thirst for adventure renewed.
Resilience gained.
The endless possibilities then…
Regards,
Gilly