The echo chamber of social media rings large as we scramble for connection in a world gone distant. Phone calls, video conferences, sporadic social-distanced meetings on park benches and the like. I am grateful for the kind weather and sunshine that warms our backs as we attempt to make up for months of self-isolation.

Eye smiles and exaggerated hand movements cannot fill the tank of that sorely lacking embrace that we so wantonly desire while talking heads on television sets explain the world as we no longer know it.

I don’t know about you, but words have recaptured their meaning. Pictures alone cannot describe our desire for a more contemplated meaning about humaneness and humanity. I choose those words carefully, almost gingerly, in an attempt to tell you all everything will be alright. It won’t be as it was, and I wish to ensure you that that in and of itself is okay too.

In the past few days we have indulged in more freedom of movement than the weeks and months preceding. And I find myself smiling despite the warnings of doom to come.

The Second Wave will descend upon us, they say somberly on the screen. Washing my hands with a thoroughness left to the most inclined, a squirt of tangible disinfection, a distance six feet apart. An opening of windows, a mild nod from afar. A veiled look of desperation as we manage to work through it all.

Throwing caution to the wind is not a part of the equation. Tossing away months of hard work with a casual gesture does not fit into our definition of success. Conformity will be rewarded. That is the promise. That is our hope.

I bow to the Gods of Nature that gently caress our souls. Ever lovingly, guiding us to that which is our truest purpose.

That we love. In the face of it all.