The World Ajar
There was a time in my life when I traveled so much that, when I bumped into friends at random places around the globe, it barely got my heart rate up. It happened all the time. My world was so small.

But now my world has shrunk to the size of a marble. Yours probably has, too.

For the past few months we’ve been locked in our respective corners, forced to find the bright side of a dark room. Which we’ve done. We’ve adapted, breathed, cheered, sang, masked, supported and witnessed the kind in humankind. Bravo, us.

Today, the door to our dark room has opened ever so slightly. The light that enters is a color-bath for our eyes. The fresh air is a hug, and smells like spring. The temptation is to force the door wide open and run through the streets with our chins raised toward the sun. Freeeedooom! But I think we all know that it will open slowly, and rushing it could land us back in the dark room.

For now, we can cherish the light we’re given. We can cuddle the fresh air. And when the door swings open and we roam freely once more, I can’t wait to rediscover a much bigger, small world. And if I randomly see my friends at the airport in Sao Paulo, my heart will race, and they will get bear hugs.

Color bathing,