Looking for the Light

I wanted to call this sadness. It's no lie and certainly no secret, sadness is everywhere. We are in the middle (middle? we actually don't know if it's the middle...) of a worldwide pandemic. Sadness is everywhere. Everything has been impacted and new realities seem to unfold every day on just how much things have changed. Once we have a new reality I feel like we all have a collective "a-ha" moment signaling our conscious mind with the new realigned logic.
To have called it "sadness" however, would have just piled more crap on crap on crap. I didn't want to do that. Being the hippie that I am, the past four years were hard enough for me. The administration in Washington seemed to deal death blows to so many things I cared about on a daily basis. This November was going to be a crucial point of potential relief, now that seems to be in jeopardy. Who knows at this point, how the pandemic will affect the coming election? Who knows how all of this will affect the economy?
Then there's the logic that apart from the pandemic, wouldn't we still have to know those things anyway?  All that has been added to our lives is a whole lot of unpredictability. It's something none of us are comfortable with, from tarot cards to stock futures we are obsessed with trying to figure out what will be. None of us seem to be comfortable with the unknown. If I could make a guess I'd say that sadness adequately describes the collective mind for the near future.; sadness and fear of entropy (maybe that's a stretch....entropy, big word...but it came to me while I was writing this so I looked it up and it seemed to fit). Still, sadness it is.
Sadness feels like an anchor holding me down, strapping me to the floor and descending into darkness. I used to look at the autumn, a common cold or a good cry like that and frankly, I don't really mind any of those things. The autumn signals the descent into the holiday season, turning the wheel, all the holidays I love the most. A common cold is just a wonderful excuse to pamper myself, curl up with a nice cup of tea, chicken soup, and a long sleep with the kitties. Last but not least, the good cry. It's nothing short of huge relief, unloading all of the pain and hurt, putting a name on it and letting it run down your face like the cleansing it can be. Those are the reasons I don't mind the darkness, there is light within them, beauty in the breakdown.
I do try to search out the light within every darkness, an open window, an unlocked door, a rising sun or a full moon. I can't always find it. The window has been shuttered, the door shut and locked and although both the sun and the moon will rise and shine my eyes cannot see them, just yet, though I do feel I will, though it may shine on a truth I do not welcome but will accept in time.