I battle to believe we are already living the second half of 2021. We had such high hopes for this year. It was going to be the redemption of 2020. The reaping after the reset. The rainbow after the rain. But somehow, here we are, reliving Groundhog Day again.
I could say it’s been a hard week, which it has, but honestly it’s been a hard year and it may be another hard one to come. There’s very little you or I can do individually, to eradicate covid or to rebuild our broken economy. For most of us, it’s taking everything we have just to keep head above water. Collectively though, we can promote positivity, we can act kindly and we can extend grace to everyone we meet.
What struck me this week was a realization of what I miss most. What I felt covid has robbed us of. An ordinary life. Not unprecedented times. Not extraordinary circumstances, just a stock standard, garden variety life, filled with family and friends. Being able to hug the people we care about. Seeing someone’s face light up when they smile. Helping someone pick up something they’ve dropped. Wiping away the tears of a little child. Touch. Leaving the house without a mask. Ordinary. Every day things. Things we took for granted before the covid chronicles. Weddings, funerals, baby showers that didn’t have to be a drive by because “3rd wave” and all that comes with it. A social life.
I may aspire to succeed and to achieve remarkable things professionally. But honestly? Right now, all I really hope for is to get by. To have the opportunity every day to do something ordinary. And to take photos of these ordinary moments. To remember there was something normal to hold on to in these extraordinary times.
Let’s celebrate the every day events. Let’s revel in average and let us never forget the power of an ordinary day.