Normal seems like some forgotten thing now, something buried at the bottom of a drawer, covered in dust. We might not even recognize when we look at it again, all dust covered and faded.
We keep talking about normal. The weather, finally sunny and warm, doesn’t help this; it tempts us out and shows us a picture that we don’t really fit in, at least not yet. We re-open businesses that promises something that is now nostalgic, some return to a past that wasn’t so long ago but feels like it. We aren’t ready for that either.
The number of coronavirus cases continues to rise and we pretend that we’re okay, we ignore social distancing and wearing masks, convinced that if stores are opening we no longer need to be careful when if anything this is the time we need to be the most careful.
People have short memories, that isn’t surprising. When things are bad we think they will always be bad and when we get a hint of improvement we convince ourselves that things were never really as bad as they were, that bad things won’t happen again.
I would love to see change after this. That instead of the normal we were used to we turn life into something better for everyone, for the world. Where we are more aware of climate change and change our world to make it healthier, where we love one another and don’t have to worry about people being killed by the people we put in charge, where we don’t have to riot to be heard, where we respect and love and listen and improve the lives of people who we hurt. I don’t want normal, I don’t think it should be an option. And as someone who is scared of change, who has only really seen the bad of it I’m ready for some good change. A change where we improve ourselves and others, save our world and others, change for the better.
But again, our memories are short. And people forget, we always forget so quickly, and we may forget again.