Return to Somewhat Normality, Post-Quarantine style

Illustration by Karl Joel Larsson

When the closing of university was announced, like most of my friends I decided to head back to my hometown in the countryside the following day, wondering for how long my stay would be prolonged.  

The idea of being at home and the appealing prospect to be able to get some rest from the hustle and bustle of Milan seemed to almost please me in the beginning. 

After moving to Milano, my return at home was oftentimes marked by the first phrases of T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets: 

“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”

— T.S. Eliot

Every time I came home for a weekend I challenged myself to find a hidden spot or a small detail that my sight had not previously encountered–be it an abandoned house far in the open fields, or a little quirk of a friend that I had never noticed before.

That said, spending the quarantine and the following months “where I started” came as a unique opportunity to plunge into exploration, though a more intimate and self-focused one. By exploration I do not mean a process which leads to a very clear and sorted end, but quite to the contrary, I refer to a process which most of the time feels confusing and dizzying. 

A moment of this observation that I particularly cherish occurred in August, when I had the chance to visit a friend in Sardinia who was staying with her family and a great cohort of hosts of any age. 

I will hardly forget that one day before lunch, when a passage from the Bible was quoted and rearranged for us by my friend’s dad. Aside from its religious connotation, the short passage we were invited to listen to bears a message of hope that is food for thought for anyone, despite one’s creed.

The passage (Kings Book, Ch. 19) is about Elias trying to look for God’s presence. 

At first, he tries to find him in the natural catastrophes that happen around him like earthquakes, fires, strong winds, but God cannot be found there. The passage goes:

“And after the earthquake a fire; [but] the LORD [was] not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.”

In the  explanation our attention is drawn to this small voice, which can be seen as one’s calling to commit to what they enjoy the most, something which comes like a whisper that we have to have an ear for.

Looking back at the challenging time we have been through, I can say it has offered me the privilege to experience some of this breeze, that is, to help me clarify a little what I would like to commit to in the future.  As things stand now, I have realised that my desire is that of dedicating myself to the arts field in a way that brings the artists and their works as close to the people as possible, in a dimension where they are comprehended and appreciated by the community.

For this reason my return to Milano and to BEMACC (Economics and Management for the Arts, Culture and Communication) classes seems to be the perfect vantage point for chasing this dream, that is, to catch this breeze, and I am fully aware that this is just the starting point. 

Needless to say, I am conscious of how peculiar this academic year is going to be, which of course comes with a good share of anxiety. Overall, I hope that the support of my friends, and the sense of comradeship that we all share as students will help all of us through. 

I hope that by reading this anyone getting ready for the beginning of the academic year can find some inspiration and hope.

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the breeze.