One minute the sky was clear and blue, and the next, the air had gone still; it was peace before the storm or silence before the wrath of a god. Odysseus, the great seaman, rowed the boat with all his might. Thunderheads were brewing, seawater was churning: the sullen god of earthquakes had sighted him from afar. A sudden wall of rain blotted out land and sea in torrential night, water spewed onto the deck, making everything slippery and impossible to hold onto, hurricane winds tossed his little boat back and forth like a puppet. Odysseus had lost control over the little boat. Still, he tried in vain to fight back against the sea, to hold on to the oars and steer the boat toward the nearly invisible shoreline, until a dark wave of salty water finally plunged him overboard.

A different storm, not unlike the one that hit Odysseus when he left Calypso’s island, turned our world upside down two years ago. Before coronavirus, I would not have believed that the lives of billions of people could be changed so irrevocably over a matter of weeks and that the control we had over our lives could be so easily taken away. But that was exactly what happened in 2020. Every day, we sat in front of the TV and watched in fear as the number of deaths ratcheted up. We had little control over the virus, so we took what little control we had over ourselves and put the world under lockdown. The lockdown did help suppress the spread of the pandemic, but it also accentuated our powerlessness. We were home 24/7, days slowly turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. So many of our plans and dreams were dashed, and so many opportunities were missed as the days dragged on and on. The despair that the lockdown would never end was like the final wave that threw Odysseus overboard. The depression, born from being caged for so long, was like the current that dragged us under, leaving many of us struggling to see the light above the surface of the dark sea.

As a teenager, I felt that blow harshly. What should have been my most vibrant years were spent confined and behind screens; what little interaction I had with my friends was through phones and computers. This was not how I had imagined my teenage years, but the pandemic and the lockdown were not something I could have controlled. At first, studying online and not having to eat the school cafeteria’s dreadful food seemed great. However, as time passed by, with me staring at the same four walls every day, I became lonely and depressed. Life was always the same. I went through the same motion of getting up, having online lessons, doing homework, and going to bed every day. I could see to the end of the day before I even woke up. Months jumbled into one day. Somewhere along the line, the memory of laughing with my friends, walking on the campus, and even the horrible taste of cafeteria food slipped away. Eventually, there came a point when I no longer remembered what life was like before. And I was not even sure I wanted to return to that life because I no longer knew what to expect from it.

Indeed, after the lockdown lifted, my life was still dictated by the pandemic. So many things that I had looked forward to were canceled, and so many of my dreams and hopes were crushed because of it. For example, I was let down time and time again when first a concert, then a small marathon, and finally a buffet I had been looking forward to for two years were all canceled because of COVID outbursts. The small things accumulated, and I learned not to get my hopes up; why should I if the only thing it would bring was a crushing sense of disappointment? So life went on with me back on campus, following the same routine every day.

 Gradually, I stopped hoping, stopped dreaming, and stopped imagining what possibilities the future might hold. People always say that life is a journey, but to me, it seemed like a straight tunnel where I could already see the light at the very end. I made myself believe I already knew how the rest of my life would go, finish high school, get a good grade, enter a prestigious university, find a nice job, get married, and slowly wither away. The belief that my life was already set in stone gave birth to doubts and fear about my dreams. I started to forget and doubt the aspirations I set when I was young. Could I really achieve my dreams? Was it worth the effort to try? Would my effort even matter? It was the acceptance of that vision that finally clipped my wings before I even tried to fly.

That state of mind sent me into a dark spiral during the lockdown and the worst of the pandemic. It was not until I read the Odyssey that I realized that I had been stuck, not just physically at home but also mentally in life.

 Odysseus, who was in his prime when he rode into battle in Troy and emerged victorious, must have felt the same helplessness and hopelessness when uncontrollable forces took him to Calypso’s island and trapped him there for seven years. He was not supposed to be there; he should have been at home with his lovely wife and son, spreading tales of heroic battles and drinking wine from golden cups. But, instead, he was stuck, pining for the homeland and family he had left behind. Likewise, I was stuck at home, longing for the life I once knew. We were both trapped with no means to escape our reality.

The only difference between Odysseus and myself was that Odysseus never stopped hoping. He might have been stuck physically on an island, but in spirit, he was never stuck. He never lost sight of his hope and determination and never let fear stop him. When the time came, he could choose to stay on the island with Calypso and be immortal, or face the adversity at sea and go home. He chose home despite the unknown dangers he would encounter. And on he went, surviving storms and the fury of Poseidon until his feet were again on the rich soil of Ithaca. In contrast, I found myself accepting that life would always remain the same and letting the fear that my hopes might be crushed stop me from dreaming and hoping. I allowed the storms and the currents to drag me down and down into the abyss without a fight.

In our lives, we often choose to stay on our comfortable islands, where life remains the same, rather than throwing ourselves into storms. Going into storms means there is a chance we can not survive, we will fail, and our dreams will get crushed. That fear is daunting but reasonable. Even brave Odysseus had that fear when the storm raged, and he was in the middle of the sea being dragged down by waves. He wondered if it was really the end of him and frequently he awaited death. However, no man can endure two nights and days drifting on the sea without losing hope, in those moments, a glimpse of land was all he needed to regain hope and swim towards it with all his strength. However, if we do not confront this internal fear, and protect ourselves too much, we cease to grow and go forward in life. We become trapped in a shell of our own making.

 In real life, hopes will get crushed, but it does not mean we should not keep trying. A colorful life is one driven by hopes and dreams, and the moment our dreams are extinguished is the moment life becomes the same and our worlds turn grey. If we try, there is at least a chance that one day we will make it to where we want ourselves to be in life. That day may be so far in the future that we can not picture it, but it will come. During the seven years Odysseus spent on Calypso’s island, there must have been times when he could not imagine ever reuniting with his family again, however that did not stop him from hoping and trying.

Life is not easy. There will always be storms that we cannot control. Sometimes it may feel like we are trapped and stuck in life, we may lose sight of what we want momentarily, and our fears and doubts may hold us back, but if we keep lighting that fire of hope, our dreams and hopes might just come true.

As the young Dawn lit up the world with fingertips of rose, golden ringlets spilled over the high and windless sea. Mounting a rolling wave, Odysseus saw with joy in his heart a glimpse of land, igniting the hope that had flickered when the dark waters swallowed him whole. He swam toward the place where the sky touched the ocean, toward the land where he knew he would be one step closer to his home, and toward the hope that he would one day see his wife and son again.