32306: Time

There's something so very freeing about the world grinding to a halt and suddenly feeling like you have all the time in the world to yourself. You walk down a trail and out into a wide-open, empty field on a day without a single cloud in the sky and you can't hear any trains or cars or bickering couples - just the birds chirping and the trees rustling around you. Both time and the beauty of the natural world feel infinite and it feels like nothing else in the world matters except this feeling of pure bliss. But then someone walks by in a facemask, on the phone to her parents, telling them that if they don't stay inside they may die and she can't bear to lose them this young. And then time doesn't feel infinite anymore, it just feels borrowed from someone else. It's hard to reconcile how wonderful it feels for time to seemingly slow down and to not have your immediate concerns be all of the personal bullshit you've been dying to escape with the guilt of knowing how many millions of people are suffering right now - all of the people fighting for their lives, whether in a hospital or abusive household or in the wake of being laid off. I feel guilty not being at home, where almost everyone in my family is high-risk in some way, but it's nearly impossible to not feel relieved at being out of a toxic household and having the freedom to really enjoy my days and (try to) focus on my work. I think I've found peace in using this time to feel and pursue the things that make us want to keep living so badly. Because as fearful and distressed as the world is right now, people are refusing to give up and that passion is what will always save us; we need it.