It is a strange day.

The Endearing Truth Of Our Shared Uncertainty

We have been humbled by a microscopic giant.

It is a strange day.

Much like the tides change the shape of the shore, our lives have been reshaped by the invisible waves of the virus. The uncertainty is the single most terrifying aspect of these changing times for many of us.

It is a strange day.

I hear the tapping and sloshing of rainfall, heavy on the metal pieces of the roof over my head. Bless that roof. That loud, shabby roof is a beautiful barrier indeed. A symbol of my safety-that roof.

I would not have thought this same thought six months ago. Six months ago the sound of rain on the top of our simple home would have caused slight annoyance for reasons that now seem unimportant. Reasons such as a hairstyle, traffic and how the dog gets fussy about peeing in the rain.

Now, these reasons for annoyance seem petty and meaningless.

I am compelled by the feeling that I get when I hear the rhythm of the raindrops. I am moved to share this feeling with you.

It is a strange day.

I hear my child laughing from his bedroom, in another day of online game battles with his growing group of kids from all over the world. They too have been staying under their roofs, inside their homes, as long as their parents and teachers and grandparents and newscasters and everyone tells them they have to. Until the virus passes, and we can all relax again.

It is a strange day.

Much like the day before today, and the day before that one. Much like many days now, today is eerie and chilling. The sounds of rain never made me cry until today. I will blame the weather.

It is a strange day, and it just occurred to me why.

I can blame the weather all I want, but the truth is the unusual sensation I keep mentioning is coming from a place of uncertainty inside me. People I know and care for, and strangers on the internet are all feeling the same unusual helplessness.

We don’t usually sit and wait for problems to be resolved.

We are a big, strong species. We are mighty and we are gifted with the ability to reason. We have opposing thumbs, and this proves that we have adapted to our need to hold on to things. To grip tools and to shake hands with our neighbors. Well, we don’t do handshakes anymore, so scratch that off the list.

With all our strength and all our healthy, able bodies, we are prepared to fight even the most formidable beasts. We know how to prepare for war against enemies twice our size. But we are rendered useless by the microscopic army, the virus.

The invisible soldiers. Stealthy, malicious, viral and feared. They creep quickly. They travel along with us, and we don’t notice they are infiltrating until they have already made themselves at home. In our homes. Under our roofs. Inside our most sacred of spaces, in our bodies.

The plan to win is in our hands.

The intruder is a baffling genius but humans are even more brilliant. We are most definitely the advanced species, and we detect the intruders now. We may not have seen the enemy coming until it was almost too late, but we are on the enemy’s trail now.

The war is not imaginary, it is happening in every single one of us. Even if we have not caught the virus, we must fight to win, and there is only one known way thus far to fight. Your weapon is your social distance. Your ammo is your desire to be alive.

Your weapon is your social distance. Your ammo is your desire to be alive.

Staying under our rooftops, inside our homes — this is the ultimate battle strategy. Admittedly this feels quite the opposite of a strategy.

This feels a lot like doing nothing. But that is exactly what it will take to conquer the internal enemy. We must embrace in spirit- at a distance. We must see each other through the windows of our blessed homes.

Today is a strange day for millions of us. Millions of us are enduring a quiet discomfort. A disrupted peace. Forced time off. A slowing pace of life. A new way of experiencing each day.

The endearing truth of humanity is that we are all uncertain and that makes us vulnerable. That makes us feel less than the mighty heroes we are.

Heroic humans, stay where you are. Look at the world through your window. We might soon be able to shake hands again, to hug and kiss our family and friends on holidays, but not yet. Until then I wish you well from my home to yours.

Even if the days are strange, don’t be a stranger.