Tetris.
A game of sheer simplicity and supreme geometry where the pieces fit together in a perfect puzzle.
Logical configurations. A jigsaw blended tightly in smooth symmetry.
Kind of like childhood itself. A square foundation of safety and security. A straight line of family and friends. A T-shape of curiosity and learning blended in. Even the occasional odd-shaped piece would be straightened out quickly with a reassuring word or a parent’s hug.
There was a time I thought the world was this simple. Puzzle pieces that came together. A clear right. A clear wrong. A clear good. A clear evil. Leaders to believe in. A country to believe in.
Then 2020 hit, and the puzzle pieces suddenly no longer fit together. In fact, at times they disappeared altogether as the world I had always known no longer made sense.
Words like Covid, Pandemic, and quarantine became our new reality. Foundations like work, friends, and family were taken away. The square blocks no longer formed a firm base.
Then 8 minutes and 46 seconds shocked our country’s soul. “I can’t breathe” became a rallying cry for some while others complained that masks concealed their breath, and, somehow, their freedom. We were forced to consider whose lives matter.
As Covid numbers rose and shocking images of brutality continued to constantly race across our screen, The T-square pieces of freedom, liberty, and equality that once tucked so nicely into the fabric of our foundation now tipped and swerved off their intended course.
Suddenly, the shapes no longer came down the middle, but instead were ricocheting from the right and left with taunts, memes, conspiracy theories and outright lies that threatened to rip that fabric right out of its seam. In fact, now I felt more like Luigi or Mario narrowly dodging knives, hammers, and flames while jumping over flowers that had suddenly turned into man-eating monsters.
Even foundational secure pieces that had always granted a sense of safety and familiarity like attending school and church were ripped away.
The puzzle was now chaos, seemingly nothing but those awkward z-shaped pieces that do nothing but disrupt the rhythm of building blocks, knocking them askew.
As November rolled around, I now fully found myself in an alternate universe, rolling around aimlessly like a marble stuck in a maze of madness as memes intensified and conspiracy theories flew around as nonchalantly as Mario using Star Power to barrel through enemies.
We no longer could tell what was reality or what was just absurd fiction. Even at school, the faces of teens who had always radiated with curiosity and enthusiasm (or at least apathy and angst) were now covered, shrouded in masks, hiding the insecurities and nervousness that lie within. It became as if we were all thrown into a colossal game of Among US, frantically scurrying around unsure of the enemy, and accusing anyone we deemed “Sus” of being an Imposter.
As 2020 wound to its close, I thought about some words I heard back near its beginning during an online church service: “Never Waste A Crisis.”
Our world, our country, our community, and each of our own selves endured a crisis in 2020, and we hoped the drop of a ball and the flip of a calendar would wipe the slate clean, providing us a brand new game where we could hit the reset button.
Yet the first week of 2021 has brought us unimaginable scenes: insurrection, bloodshed, and attacks upon our democracy, upon the bedrocks of our country: freedom, liberty, and tolerance.
The attack on our Nation’s Capitol, ironically, or perhaps coincidentally, occurred on January 6, the date that Christians celebrate the Epiphany when the Wise men followed the star on their way to pay homage to Jesus in Bethlehem.
And whether Christian or not, as one of those Bedrocks of our America has always been to tolerate and respect all religions, we could all do well to learn from their example.
Guided by a light, those wise men kept their eyes on their priorities, on the journey’s end, on the beliefs they held in their hearts.
And though our world seems shrouded in darkness, like them we must follow the light, and we must strive to continue our journey.
2020 and the first week of 2021 has shaken us to our core.
The geometric pattern that was our innocence has been disrupted, the puzzle has become jumbled, the game has indeed at times seemed hopeless.
And hopelessness is contagious, infectious.
Recently, I had a conversation with four girls in my class, ranging from freshmen to junior year of high school, and they were using words like “hopeless” and “despair,” even commenting that they wanted to leave America.
And it hit me. The real enemy wasn’t coming from the right or the left. It wasn’t coming from lockdowns or restrictions. The real enemy was coming from within. Giving in to the frustration. Succumbing to the negativity. Allowing hopelessness to win.
In Shawshank Redemption, Andy tells Redd in a letter: “Hope is a good thing, maybe even the best of things, and a good thing never dies.”
So, even as the pieces fall haphazardly from the sky at a breakneck pace, we must remember that there is another round where we can slow down, start building once again from the foundation.
But the great thing about video games, like life, is we always have the option to “play again.” To rise again tomorrow. To keep trudging forward even if the world around us and within us appears to be crumbling.
Tomorrow is another day, and 2021 is still another year. A day, a year with a blank canvas across which we get to blend shapes and colors together in a sometimes broken but ultimately beautiful puzzle.
mikepollis1979 