I feel like Frozen 2 called it. Somehow, before this pandemic became our reality, watching this movie felt spooky. Take Olaf’s song for example:
This will all make sense when I am older. Someday I will see that this makes sense.
Thank you, Olaf. When we watched Frozen 2 the first time: story, sound, animation – it felt the people at Disney had figured it out. Hypnosis. It didn’t spark fun like the original Jungle Book or melt you like – well for me, Tangled. Who doesn’t cry at the end of Tangled? Still, even though I told myself rationally I didn’t love Frozen 2 as a movie, I was still hooked. I’ve wanted to see it again. And again.
Now Elsa wailing (I mean booming) the song Into the Unknown feels a new kind of powerful. And if Greta’s warning about irreversible global climate change proves true this summer – can we handle all this change, Olaf? Can we?
Boy oh boy. The Arctic glaciers melting, while the soil underneath farts away uncontrollable amounts of methane into the air and we’re still battling this virus that crossed over from our mammalian cousins. They’re distant cousins at that. It’s not like someone kissed a Bonobo.
The strange silence has enveloped Barbados too. It’s spread just behind the virus. 56 cases here now. One needless death. Everything on island – bar the very essentials which somehow excludes food at this point – is closed. And along with the scary sense of this oily-coated, protein-spiked coronavirus, there is calm. In our boat anyhow. Hearts go out to people who aren’t safe in their homes.
Being truly forced to remain in place yesterday felt like a permission slip for simple happiness for us. It’s true we’re only at the beginning of lockdown, but we swam off of Quest yesterday – a lot. Listened to music a lot. Turned it up. We danced in between swimming. It wasn’t the typical: you have a class, work back home, while you need to do your homework and we have to fit everything in between. And I need to go shopping etc and so forth. It was just fun. Fun as a measure against sickness. Fun against fear.
We are so lucky. We have a boat that, touch wood, is safe from ill-repair. Having fixed things when they broke and hopefully having prevented more breakages has kept us in good stead – for now. We can dance and sing and swim. This will all make sense when we are older. Or it will teach us to celebrate.