It’s been a year that we all get through this pandemic. I allow my thoughts now to scribble anything that comes to mind freely – unedited. Step back – more than ten years ago, by some twist of fate I was privileged with few others to take a peep to the “undisturbed” majestic Sierra Madre. Before dark, we retired for a day’s rest. During this time, I allowed myself to get lost in the forest hoping to find someone not like ours, a wild deer, a koala, a unicorn or perhaps a bunch of fairies. But I found nothing, except the authentic sounds of the forest – the bubbling brooks, remote and close sounds of chirping birds, buzzing insects, and some croaking frogs. I enjoyed walking on barefoot, noting my closest proximity to nature – me touching them from the very ground. It’s the most humbling commune with nature. Strange as it may seem, my fear to step on a snake was low, because I never saw one in that sojourn. Were forest snakes more afraid than humans?
Now back to the concrete jungle, COVID years 2020 -2021. This time – to reevaluate where I am in my life. The pandemic transforms me. Sometimes these changes allow me to learn things about myself that I never knew were there. I learned by observation that in general, people are not only divided in races, but essential and non essential. That people could fight, more than a snake fight in the most difficult days of survival. Who said that the concrete jungle has no snake? Human snakes are as deadly here because they bit behind your back. A prelude to the dystopian world, perhaps.
And finally, when optimistic people can now see the light at the end of the tunnel, my only hope is that no one will be left behind. Otherwise, the abandoned ones will only perish helplessly in crumbles and shambles by wanton forgetfulness. Ora pro nobis.
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