Thanks to a tiny but contagious living entity, the present has completely caught and embraced me.

Relieved from all the daily noise, hearing the birds sing outside almost all the time, I find myself alone and in tranquility at home.

In this unfancy hotel, delicious food is served every day—made by me. I have nobody noising out their egos at me, dusting out their moods, making me lose my balance.

It makes me wonder: are animals and nature feeling the same out there, knowing that humans are concealed and cannot reach them? I bet they are.

I feel safe in this turtle shell I call home. Here, simple things newly gain importance. I joyfully play with my cat, never rushing it for lack of time. I think Tom smiles about that, and, in reply, I laugh genuinely about how silly and beautiful he is, with his white little paws. It feels heavenly.

Do parents feel the same when they play with their kids at home these days? I bet they do.

Blame me now, but I have not enjoyed many times like this before, feeling that nature is taking a break from the brutality of humankind. Families spend time together, and my parents stay safely home—not working, but playing chess instead.

Love is making us forget the fear of death. It’s priceless.

I do not think this will happen again in a very long time. People are bringing out their best selves. With their loved ones, they create, play, sing, laugh, and exercise, causing no harm to nature. At the same time, the world opens to us. Through the small magic window of our phones, we enjoy free concerts, lessons, and encouraging words. Suddenly, we think about people as individuals again.

Isn’t this what we have always wanted in our madly virtual world?

Let’s come to peace with the emptiness that fills our rooms and with the floors that bear our weight. Some days—not only these—that’s all we have. Maybe it’s time we acknowledge them and be thankful for them.

Let’s ask ourselves where love is in our lives. Let’s ask ourselves whether it fills our homes.

I say with humbleness that…I don’t want this to end.

I fear it will. I like the empty roads, and I like the world stopping its insanity. When I look out the window, I feel something close to the silence that our ancestors felt when they lived in nature. It gives me peace.

I take a mirror and look at who I really am. No need for makeup or an elegant outfit. Who is going to see me? Only me. I recognize the light in that look that once belonged to a child wanting to change the world.

Before we wake from this dream, before we go stubbornly back to what we had, let’s savor this rare moment. Stop! Like the mindfulness books say.

Let’s remember that we are just wind out there, we are fragile in here, and we are love inside. This is not a pause, because we have not stopped, and we never will. This just is us looking inside to find…us.

Us, again.