Good Friday, April 10, 2020 - Choice

It snowed last night and it's still snowing this morning. It's not unusual to get snow in April in Southwestern Ontario but I think it's been a shock to many.

I always think of Easter as the start of spring; the time for pastel colours and lighter clothing. The start of something new.

It's almost as if Mother Nature is saying, "Uh-uhn, we're not done yet. You've still got a lot more to learn."

During this time of isolation, I find it fascinating to see celebrities taking to social media, to talk about how they are coping.

This pandemic is the great leveller; it has brought all of us to our humanness. We're all together in our collective fear of the unknown. How long will this last? How long will we have to do this?

But also, how will we survive? Will we have money for food next week? Who will go to the store? Will we get a delivery time slot? What if the grocery store runs out of food? What if the economy never recovers? What if our landlord can't survive without our rent? What if we get evicted? How will we pay all of the bills? How will our business survive? What if I get laid off? What if the government runs out of money? What if I never see my parents again? How long before I get to hug my kids, my relatives and my friends? Where will I sleep tonight? How do I know I am safe?

All of these questions swirl around our communities. And the greatest one is, 'Will someone I know get sick or will I? If one of us does, can he/she/they/I fight it and survive?'

And yet I see people getting creative in the ways they come together to celebrate Easter. Where families would have joined in a meal together, they make plans for video chats and put name and placeholders in dinner table chairs, to let people know they are not forgotten.

We have drawn closer as communities, countries and our entire world is growing tighter knit in our physical distance. We are together in our separateness. Would you have ever thought that was possible before?

As I look out the window at the wind blowing the snow across the field next door, I can't help but feel hopeful that our world will come out of this changed for the better.

I have to believe that humans will remember our true selves; our open, empathetic, kind and loving selves.

But that starts with you. Can you dig deep and remember who you really are?


Stark, fresh, vast, new,

The snow dances with the trees,

The waving branches,

The wind, with a deep exhale.

What is normally held in sequence is in disarray,

The snow pirouettes with the wind,

Entangled in their destiny together,

Footprints disappear to make space for new ones.

Fresh snow fills in slowly,

Each flake with a mind of its own,

The wind howls, announcing its strength,

But the snow falls where is wants,

It knows it has a choice.

Contact me.

© 2019 Shauna M Rae