Isolation

Writing has always been a place of refuge to me, so it is no surprise that I have met it again amid chaotic times. After living in isolation in my room for 7 months, the outside world started to seem like an old tale that I once knew but no longer remembered the words of. The days come and go, slipping away from my fingers, and I only remember to tick them off on the wall when we are faced with a new tragedy. If you get really quiet and listen closely, you might hear the echoes of billions of voices counting down for these 365 days to be over. It is as if a giant clock orbits the sky where the sun used to be, as if when the counter strucks midnight on December 31st, all pain and grief will be lifted off the world, and our eyes will flicker with hope again. We all know this isn't true, but the human spirit has a way of being imaginative when faced with fear. It is even more gifted when it is faced with one's own, raw soul. We were all exposed to our own unconcealed, stripped selves this year. It is an eerie thing for one to discover what part of one's self is a carcass, created for the indulgence of others, and what truly is. Many of us were given the chance to explore the darkest corners of our egos and to better undertand new aspects of our psyche, and only then, heal. Living on auto-pilot, we often repress our true emotions, and keep letting bad habits and past patterns control us until we are fully exhausted. So during this time, we had to make the decision to either drown when faced with our reflection in the still water or to recocognize it. Walking away was not a choice. “Human beings can withstand a week without water, two weeks without food, many years of homelessness, but not loneliness. It is the worst of all tortures, the worst of all sufferings.” Paulo Coelho Our past wounds were at last visible to the naked eye. It is said that if you desire healing, you should let yourself fall ill. Quarantine was the catalyst of internal change, and by opening our wounds further, light was let in, transforming them into openings into the most beautiful parts of our spirits. The past months, I have rediscovered passions that in the agitation of daily life, lied dorment for so many years, but which bring me so much joy. Writing is one of them. I have also revisited my love for literature, for fashion, for art, for learning, and for acessing my creativity. Nanna Coelho Blog was born out of my burning need as a 9 year old girl to channel my thoughts into a safe medium. 7 years later, this need is still very much present. So, welcome back. Thank you for being here and supporting my passion for sharing the way I view the world and all of its most beautiful and intricate facets. Note: Posts will now me written in English, but my native tongue that once narrated the blog might make a comeback every once in a while. I hope your stay here is not only pleasant, but stimulating, and my fresh perspectives on what I used to be so familiar with provoke new forms of thinking within you as well. Loads of love, xx Nanna Coelho