Remember.
There was a moment — not so long ago — when the world paused.
Not by choice. Not by comfort. But in that strange, uncertain silence, something flickered awake in many of us.
You stepped off the treadmill. And for the first time in a long time, you breathed.
You noticed the way time stretches when you’re not being watched.
You baked, walked, listened, and grieved. You dreamed.
And asked:
What if life didn’t have to be this way?
What if work served life instead?
What if I had time to be with my family, myself, my thoughts? And think?
The clocks kept ticking,
but time softened.
You stayed home.
You looked out of windows.
You listened to birdsong,
where once there was only traffic.
For the first time in years,
You sat with silence —
and in it, we found something fragile and real.
Not comfort, always.
But truth
And just as the awakening began,
the noise returned.
The system — shaken by your thoughts of a new horizon — snapped back.
Declared stillness to be laziness.
Declared dreaming to be dangerous.
And now they say:
There is no money.
There is no time.
There is no other way.
But you remember, don’t you?
You remember what that pause felt like; what you glimpsed; that life is not a line on a ledger.
That worth is not in wage.
That your soul is not a subscription.
You remember
the world that flickered
when we stopped —
and saw each other.
Helped each other.
Dared to believe in enough.
Dreamed of a new society.
We can’t afford to forget
Hold on to the stillness.
Guard your dreaming.
Speak the truth aloud,
even when your voice shakes.
Because another world was glimpsed;
And it’s still possible.
Remember.
