“It’s hard to have hope sometimes. We live our lives constantly getting up and going, always moving onto the next thing—moths chasing flames that grow more elusive as the dawn approaches. We’re tortured by silence in a screaming year, laced with events of turmoil and perpetual change—a silver silence that holds a mirror up to our faces and our truths. And we don’t always like what we see. It’s hard to have hope when we’re distracted, romanced by the illusion of productivity, blinded by privilege, and shielding our weary eyes from discomfort. This is what makes Svalbard so important; they force us to look.” Dying to heal.
