Whispers. Fear. Light. Trust. Foundation.

Conferences are nice. But what’s nicer is when it involves topics that are very human and humane. 

Imagine attending a conference when the speaker talks about how it’s human to make mistakes. 

“Making mistakes is human. You can’t be perfect and the moment you think you are or expect another person to be is when you know you need to grow. You need to make mistakes to learn. And don’t think trust can’t be rebuilt. Because you made a mistake on a file doesn’t mean we don’t want to work with you or never will. We’ve made mistakes all through our career that we’ve had to live with. But guess what, most issues arising from any mistake you made can be fixed if you inform your senior officer and take proactive steps.” The speaker said. 

I sat in the front row thinking about how there’s so much commonality between our work life and personal world. 

I always knew what the speaker spoke about, but it was reassuring to hear it from someone else. What resonated the most was knowing trust could be rebuilt. I left the conference knowing I’m not alone. None of us are since no man is an island. 

Island. Self. Individuality. Laughter. Wailing.

The loud sound of a seagull woke me up. I couldn’t tell where it came from. 

I tried opening my eyes, but the sun was scorching. It was so hot that it burned my eyes and skin. I looked up and around. 

What happened to the walls in my room? Was I being hypnotized? Is this an out-of-body experience? 

I tried standing up but my feet were buried deep in the sand. How did I get to a beach? 

I managed to stand up. There must be another soul around. It can’t be only me here. No man is an island! 

And then I heard it! It was a cry. A cry for help. 

“Help! Somebody help me!”

I ran frantically towards the sound. And then it stopped. 

What direction did it come from? 

As I was trying to decide if I should go east or west, I heard the cry once more. But this time. It was different. It was from a different person. The initial cry was high pitched. Like someone who was afraid. 

But this one? It sounded like someone who was clinging unto hope. Someone using the last ounce of their soul to not give up. 

This new cry sounded like it was coming from the south. I hurried. I must find this person. At least we’ll both have company. 

I hurried as the cry started to faint. It was a do or die. I ran. The cry was fading. And boom! I saw her. The lady with the faint cry for help. 

I tried moving closer but suddenly, I couldn’t move. I was so fixated on helping the lady with the faint cry that I didn’t notice all the others around. 

Why couldn’t I move? I have to help! 

“Hey, I’ll be there soon! Wait for me!”

The lady with the faint cry looked at me and she said “No. You can’t. You can’t come over. I’m only crying for my soul to help me. Only, I can save me.”

I was surprised. I looked past her and saw there were a thousand other people. We were together yet apart. It didn’t take long for me to realize we were all on our own mini-island on a very big island. 

And even though none of us could move or switch places, we still found a way.

A way to ensure that we weren’t an island even though we were all on islands of our own. 

Loss. Fear. Grief. Hope. Rebirth

Somehow, the island started to dissolve. I found myself back in my bedroom. And no, it wasn’t a dream.

How did I know? The sand was still on my feet. I really couldn’t tell how I found myself in my room once more. 

I racked my brain. Nothing came through. I’ll deal with it later but first; I need to clean my feet. 

Ding ding. My phone rang. My mom hates the sound of my phone, but I like it for its simplicity. Less, they say, is more. 

It was the call. 

Another death. 

My body got cold. My heart sank. 

I felt different pangs of emotions and slid into mindlessness and found myself questioning – “where do death even come from?” 

Why do we call it death? Who came up with the word? Is death a different form of life or an extension of it? Are we all living in a mirage? What’s going on? 

There was a time I confidently boasted that only remote people I have no connection with have died.

But that has changed.

I’ve witnessed so many losses and now I’m asking, how can I rebuild trust with life after experiencing deep loss? 

I don’t have the answer, but I know we must try. And this applies to everything possible. 

Trying to rebuild our trust with life, after huge losses, is the only way forward. 

As the conference speaker said about mistakes, we should take proactive steps because that’s what we can control.

And the steps I’ve chosen are to be fully present with my loved ones, and live with no regrets because at the day’s end, we’re all living on borrowed time.