Finding Common Ground

In a world divided, we lost touch with our brothers. Our sisters. Our mothers, fathers, neighbours, and friends. As time rolls on and one year becomes two, we must move beyond the position of fear and mistrust.

It is time to reach out beyond our four walls.

It is time to remember how close we once were. The feeling of unity, infused with free will, goes far beyond the feel-good moment of seeing someone's face for the first time in ages.

It is the heart-swelling overflow of happiness from watching children greet one another, unencumbered and joyful. Hearing laughter lifts your spirit. Singing and dancing move your soul.

We were once that happy. And we can be that happy again. Will it be easy? Probably not. But nothing worth fighting for ever is.

We have changed. Without seeing it, we have fallen into the trap of distancing from some, while keeping close to others. Where once we would have dropped everything to help a friend or visit a relative, each decision now comes with a built-in series of questions. On one hand, it is not harmful to assess your health risk to others. It is probably a good thing. But what is the attached cost?

We have missed the opportunities to support grieving families because we were told we couldn't. Weddings and joyful celebrations were postponed, modified or cancelled. Holidays and gatherings became subdued and cautious, sometimes out of fear of being too large or against some arbitrary rule made by some well-meaning individual. Children lost out on occasions that can never be regained. Memories, that would have brought smiles to people as they age, were not written as we hid from the unseen enemy.

But not all is lost. We have learned from the global collective experience.

We learned that humans are intelligent, resourceful, resilient, strong, weak, broken, and scared—all at the same time.

We also learned that when we work together for a common goal, peace can rule this Earth.

We can stand united.

And today, I stand for the right of free choice. Freedom is a fundamental right. From the newest child to the oldest elder, they have made it into this life, and they deserve to be supported. Watching loved ones through a screen, or hiding barricaded behind locked doors is not freedom. Tyrannical regulations, pitting neighbours against each other, bombarding the airwaves with hate-filled rhetoric, is not inclusivity. And when our government, the very people elected to lead us, create the divide and the separation, where do we turn?

It is now time to make a choice. We have done all that was asked. And yet the pushing does not stop. The stripping of individuality, choice and freedom has slowly eroded each person until they are but a shadow of their former self. Many cannot see it. The subtle messages of unity against the few in pursuit of protection for the many have in fact done the most damage.

This segregation is not based on race or gender. It is not about religious beliefs or culture. This is the calculated removal of individuals from their society, from their support network, from their lives. All under the guise of safety.

Were the guidelines necessary when the world faced its first collective disaster in a century? Perhaps. Until the enemy was identified. When the initial methods of containment, treatment and prevention failed, new ones should have been tried. When science found answers, they should have been celebrated, not silenced. When people died alone in a sterile hospital room, their families should have been told the truth.

We all deserve to know the truth.

By staying silent, by staying in the lane created for the compliant, I added to the misery of many. I am complicit in the mass destruction of the human experience. There are many who stood against the machine from the start, who chose the path of much resistance. And I sat in fear. Fear of being outcast. Fear of being rejected by the society I thought I was a part of.

Until I wasn't.

Until my choice made me a second-class citizen.

Until I could see how many rights and freedoms have systematically been stripped, leaving me with a shell of my former life. At that moment, I had a choice to make. Stay in the herd, protected and safe in the

Instead, I took a stand.

I added my voice to the minority. Together, our voices can be heard. It is no longer an army of one.

Today, I give thanks to the one. The one who withstood the tyranny, the slurs, and anger. Who gave love in the face of hate.

Today, I learned what true solidarity is.

It's not standing beside your neighbour because you live next door. It's standing up for your neighbour when the world will not. It's choosing to push back against the tide when it would be easier to float along as a small piece of flotsam on a gentle stream. And it's about risking everything for what you know is right for you.

There is risk in every choice we make. From driving on a highway to what we eat. These are risks we analyze, assess and make conscious decisions about. When the option to choose is removed, when the experts claim they have all the answers if you will only listen to them, then consciousness is silenced. The little voice that guides you in your day-to-day life cannot be heard over the incessant chatter to do your part.

Only when you turn off the noise can you hear the silence. Your inner silence. And deep in that silence, your own voice can finally be heard.

Will you listen to it? Will you trust yourself?

The question that was asked: How will I foster kindness and inclusivity in 2022?

By supporting those who have been shunted aside. By opening my doors to my neighbours and not being afraid to hold out my hand to those who need it. Offer a kind word of thanks to the retail workers, bank tellers, truck drivers, police officers, nurses, doctors, anyone who has done the best they can. What we all need right now are a hug and a smile. Both are free to give and there is an endless supply.

It is time to make smiles mandatory.

It is time to sing and dance.

It is time to laugh again.