The eclipse syndrome

For a few autumns now, it has been said that autumn is coming in hot. But now, not just in a figurative sense. Also literally. We take the drop in temperatures as a parenthesis. And we learn to live in these tiny interregnums so that neither the heat nor the world completely overwhelms us. The excess of information, of disinformation, of fascist nostalgia, and of a dazed present, demands that we look where we can actually see. These are small cracks. Thin ones. Because journalism in general focuses on what is not working and gives voice to those who already have plenty of it. But how is the balance between denunciation and living maintained? Denunciation is necessary, but denunciation is powerless when there is nothing beyond the mere observation of facts that we believe will never change. Because we are convinced that there is nothing we can do about it. And there is a part of that statement that is true. But the focus must be placed on the scale. In a world of excessive figures, we must make the scale smaller. Go into detail. We have a lot to do if we look very close to us, in the days that pass without grandiloquent offices or millions of likes. At km 0 is where things change. When they change.

This summer we hit the jackpot. The climate has punished us with astronomical heat, but astronomy brought us the privilege of a total solar eclipse. And even though a lot was said about it, it is worth remembering. Because it was a small moment on a grand scale, but immense in our small lives. It was not a great step for humanity –oh, those solemn phrases–, but a moment full of humanity. A moment of collective joy that encircled us in that bright ring that shone in the sky. The emotion, however it was expressed, could not be hidden. To live a unique moment, which always makes it special, but also to share the beauty of an instant in an era when beauty is so hard to find. Because it is not an Instagram beach or a famous painting. The beauty, which we forget is something that makes us happy, was there in the eclipse and on our surprised faces that managed to focus our gaze on a gift of nature instead of the usual mobile phone. And that put us in our place. Within the world and within the universe.

Eclipse syndrome refers to eye damage caused by looking at the sun without protection. Myeclipse syndromerefers to evoking a moment that we have lived, that we have shared, and that has made us feel that the world is also a possible and beautiful place. It is not about turning away our gaze or avoiding information. It is about balancing a scale where restlessness now weighs heavy. It is a bottle of air within our reach to be able to breathe when, between Ceuta, Germany, and so many alarms ringing, we run out of breath. It is not giving up. Because accepting that the world is as ugly and dirty as all these tyrants want to paint it for us is to stop seeing eclipses and instead eclipse ourselves. So, to start anew, let us add beauty. And let us remember how it makes us feel when we see it. And let us feel it. Without complexes. Without protection. Heaven forbid we disarm them.