Each new year is a beginning
Though it feels we’ve already lost
Our hope is usually brimming
But lately we feel distraught
The world has changed for good
There’s no going back to before-times
If we could, we certainly would
This new era is chaos defined
For those with mental illness
It feels like the world has caught up
Now everyone has a sickness
The entire world is stuck
At the end of the rope, there’s hope
Is what the flame-eyed man said
On the edge of the homeless shelter bed
He’d seen it all, he explained, and each
Of us is a grain of sand in an expanding
Universe that’s interconnected
All a string in a vast spider web
They talk of footprints
Along the winter sand
Those obscure hints
Of God’s guiding hands
When we’re struggling
We believe God is hiding
It feels so puzzling
When our life is backsliding
Her smooth skin is an illusion:
Inside, she’s tough like leather.
I don’t mean this cynically.
She’s seen catastrophe:
Yet, she persists.
Carrying a torch with a hopeful flame
That never dies out.
I don’t understand this.
She studies genocide,
Yet, she tells me everything
Will be okay.
“Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.” —Desmond Tutu
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It’s a bit cliché to write a reflection on the pandemic year, but I’m going to do it anyway. It’s been a long year, and it’s also been surprising to me how I’ve gotten used to pandemic lockdowns. Like most people, I was very nervous in the beginning, especially because of my mental health concerns. And as 2020 dragged on and all the terrible things that happened, it hit me emotionally like everyone else. But the pandemic lifestyle hasn’t been all bad.
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“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” – Albert Camus
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