Thank You, 2020

A year ago, I sat with Marcus at a ski lodge tucked away in the ridges of northern China. It was an optimistic time, a fin-de-siècle of childhood and the quiet onset of adolescence. No matter how powerful the cosmic time-scale is, we humans, being the species we are, need to divide and quantify time. Not that it’s anything bad — I just find it extraordinarily interesting how much we value the passing of a decade, especially when technically, it means nothing at all.

When the metrics of time fade in and out, they often promise different things. The human body blossoms and wilts, science and technology work hard to cure and to advance, and the mark of civilisation etches itself onto the planet with ever more definition. In this difficult era, virtue is a beacon — one that combines goals with instincts, one that is a perpetual propellant, even in adverse times. We saw that with the greatest clarity this year. When human society succumbs to challenge, we can finally appreciate virtue; although it does come in many guises, we can still notice it and be thankful for it. Perhaps this is 2020’s promise.

2020 was a year of deaths. We have tolerated and coped with death for centuries — is this the natural bargain when assessed with progress? We are all very brave in living with death, and we owe unquantifiable gratitude and appreciation to those who have endured and tackled it most this year. However, death has many hues, tints, and shades. Our loved ones are destined to pass, the world we live in is destined to pass, and in more ways than one we are already dying. I’m grateful that 2020 has brought death closer to our lives; we shed life every moment we live, and this year has illustrated that for us. Maybe growing up and ageing isn’t as one-sided as we perceive it to be; a part of us doesn’t want the innocence and simplicity of youth to die, but as we let go, we are liberated from its restraints and see so much more as part of that. It’s something dissatisfying, yet beautiful.

---

As we gather to send off 2020, we couldn’t help but reflect. What have we gained when we’ve lost so much? Sometimes materialism fails us. Because of the sheer care and love we people have given each other, this year has been truly enlightening. From the unique innovations and adaptations all of us had to make during this difficult season, to all the unimaginable sacrifices we had to commit to survive, we were able to set aside our differences and be constructive. In other words, from death, we won love.

Across the ether, we became closer to each other, we became more tightly knit to each other. 2020 is also like a sieve — how many things ubiquitous in this century are not needs, but wants? When families are strong, the community is strong, and this has proved so miraculous now when we need it most. 2020 has also made us treat the home with much more dignity. Virginia Woolf was wise — sometimes opportunities come by chance, and I certainly hope that we will care for home and appreciate home much more than we do now, far into the future. We have truly made home into a place of rest and relief.

Living through this vastly reimagined truth, maybe the one thing we’ve truly discovered was simplicity. Some opportunities happen by chance, and 2020 gave us that when we weren’t prepared for it. It still opened our perspectives dramatically — some wants are simply not necessary, and the reward we earn from refining our wants and needs is so much greater than what we let go. The purity of death is extracted, the purity of love is extracted, the purity of happiness is extracted… maybe making life the purest and happiest for oneself will make it more pleasurable, and maybe they are lessons to stay.

---

Another year later, I sat down with Marcus again, this time at home when the outside was pouring. We were far different souls, far abandoning the spectres of our pasts. The clock continued to tick; our hearts continued to beat. We were so different but yet so alike, united by the passing of time, the passing of life. Perhaps it was all worth it.

Thank you, 2020, for making us rethink who we are, reimagine what we could be, and love the world with a bigger heart.

---

Because I could not stop for Death

— Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess – in the Ring –

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –

We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –

The Dews drew quivering and Chill –

For only Gossamer, my Gown –

My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground –

The Roof was scarcely visible –

The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads

Were toward Eternity –