The Warmth of Peace

I think COVID-19 was hard on everybody. I haven't met a single person that says, "Yeah, I'd do it all over again." For most people, including myself, it was a time of confusion, unrest, and disorder.

I go to a public state university. When I transferred to that university, I was expecting to live that fun college life. I would go to class, make friends, enjoy the weekends, and live an easy-going life. But reality was far from that.

In the fall I was supposed to be chased down by clubs and organizations that wanted me to join as a member. Instead, I was greeted by the cold wind of an abandoned campus. My classrooms were virtual, I never met a single classmate, and nobody was brave enough to come within six feet of me - it was like I had an invisible disease and everybody tried to stay as far away as possible from me.

As the fall turned into winter, the warmth in the air faded away. You could say my dreams to be a part of a fun, new school did too. To say I was lonely would be an understatement. Desperate to see a friendly face would barely capture what I was seeking. I think peace is what I really wanted, and it's what I lacked the most of over the course of this past year. Schoolwork was piling up, my motivation to keep up with it was dying, and enjoying life was a forbidden fruit.

But one fall afternoon, we had an unusual warm spell across the state. The sun was out, the grass was a little bit greener, and people came out of their hibernations to soak in the few moments of warmth we had left. I don't know if there was a natural inclination to do this thing, but I wanted to skip class and just sit on one of the big columns. That was it. I didn't want to do school or homework or have fun or meet new people. I just wanted to sit on the remains of what used to be the original school of this university. Six tall, white columns are all that remain from the blaze that destroyed the original. Maybe it felt some sort of connection to the columns - my hopes for the school year went up in flames, and there wasn't much left for me to hold onto.

I sat on one of the columns and closed my eyes. The stone was cold but the sun was warm. It was an odd mix of comfort and discomfort. I felt out of place yet I didn't want to move. When the wind blowed, a shiver would run up my spine. But you could feel the sun again once it stopped.

On those columns I felt peace. Despite things not going my way, the sun was still shining, the grass is still green, and the columns are still standing. You could say that it was the "light at the end of the tunnel" moment for me. I believed that this unfortunate reality of society would be over someday. Someday, we won't have to be afraid to approach one another, to greet one another, or to hug one another.

It was this hope that I clung to through the rest of that year. I don't think we had another warm, sunny day like that until the spring, but I remember it vividly because it had that lasting impact on me. And so I smile at such a simple memory. This true, lasting peace, can always be found inside of me, and there's nobody and nothing that can take that away from me except for myself.