When the pandemic struck, we were lost. Slowly getting drained by the ever lasting maelstrom of thought. Perpetual motion towards an uncertain trail of thoughts. But then a glimmer of hope started shining on the horizon. We gathered energy from the small waves of light climbing the mountains, flowing through the valley. The light felt slow. First the forests got a little bit brighter, allowing us to breathe. Then the small river got a little bit warmer, allowing us to rest. What felt like an eternity of imprisonment was finally breaking away. The eternal slumber – like in a fairytale – but different. We got not cursed, no charming heroine came to our rescue. Just the slow light, warming our thoughts – drenching us – holding us with imaginary arms. A welcoming embrace. One got to find the softness in those brittle hard moments in life. To play with the contrast of the colourful and dimm; the softness in poignancy. We got hurt, and we are hurting. Vulnerability surrounds us. Like a fairytale everything feels slightly out of place and the magic that is reentering our lives is slowly building up. Letting those magical moments reside in our bodies gives us strength. Strength to grab a sword to hack and slay, to warn and intimidate our monsters.
The light now reaches ourselves. Our distorted views tardily get better. We can see the magic, mythical creatures and people. It has been a while, but it feels like everything can heal. We will definitely try.