What if the compassion that caused our banging of pots led to our demanding that the needs of front line workers be met. What if we had banged pots until they were.
What if we spent two years putting our money where our mouth is so that small businesses came out ahead and the behemoths felt the pinch. And what if we continued that way forever and ignored how deprived we feel at the very idea.
What if we wanted better than to go back to normal.
What if we had stopped throwing garbage on the planet so that when our lives filled with masks we wouldn’t cover the earth with them.
What if we didn’t feel sorry for ourselves.
What if, after two years, we had taught our children (by our own example) to become people who care more about those who have less, and less about what we are missing out on.
What if kindness was the most enviable thing.
What if we had learned to talk to each other.
What if, after two years, we actually understood each other better instead of being convinced that only one of us is right.