The Hike Back to Normalcy: The Light at the End of the Tunnel

A.I. Image from Adobe Stock

by Skip Cohen

It's Sunday, and I've been AWOL for most of the last week. Hurricane Helene rolled in on September 26. That morning, we got a call that Sheila's brother, Randy, died. As we were recovering from Helene, Milton rolled in on October 9. A week later we got word of Randy's funeral in Ohio on the 23rd. It feels like it's been non-stop crisis mode for a month, yet all I have to do is watch the news and know I've got no right to whine. This has been a horrific month for so many people in so many places.

At the same time, everything we deal with is relative, leaving each of us yearning for a return to normalcy. When crises come in a bundle, you start to feel like a cartoon rabbit chasing that carrot just out of reach. Normalcy seems so close, and then *poof* it's gone, and a new challenge is on your doorstep.

I've written about the habit Sheila and I got into many years ago of reading something inspirational aloud every morning. It's how we start our day. One of my readings in October was so timely - nothing earthshaking, but a poignant reminder that returning to a state of normalcy takes time and patience, but it's not out of reach forever.

​When difficult times arise, remember that life will return to normal, even if it's a new normal. Whatever you are experiencing will eventually pass. The truth doesn't diminish what is happening, but it allows you to find the light at the end of the tunnel by recognizing that time will keep moving forward. And in time, you will be okay once again. Cyndie Spiegle, A Year of Positive Thinking.

​Here's my point: The world has become a bizarre place with Mother Nature driving the bus. Throw in all the contributing crises created by man, from war to politics to aging to the economy, and "normal" has an ever-changing, unpredictable perimeter. But as long as we have faith, there's nothing that isn't achievable.

In a corner of our house, this reminder is framed:

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​Faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see.

Wishing everybody a day that seems normal, with minimal things to worry about and time to simply appreciate family and friends. There's always light at the end of the tunnel, but it's hard to see if your eyes are closed. Go for those eleven-second therapeutic hugs I always write about—you'll be surprised at the energy that comes out of the closeness with those who are special in your life.

​Happy Sunday or Monday on the other side of the world.