What If It’s Not the End of the World?

Or what if it is?

The sun sets on West Beach in Adelaide, Australia, on June 17, the last evening of our trip.

I spent much of Sunday morning listening to Miley Cyrus’ new album, “Something Beautiful,” on Spotify, reading each lyric on the app as the 80s/fantasy musical riffs and Miley’s deep voice enchanted my ears. Coffee cup in one hand, phone in the other, it was a good distraction from current events that have the potential to drown us all, as if another ship like the Titanic just hit an iceberg again.

I’d listened to “Something Beautiful” in its entirety one other time during a flight on our way to Australia earlier this month. To be honest, upon first listen, the album did not resonate with me all that much. There was something too noisy, too unrelatable, too science-fiction-y about it. The first song on the tracklist, “Prelude,” is like an audible version of Meow Wolf, and if you’ve been to one of the Meow Wolf locations, you’ll understand what I mean. An art installation like Meow Wolf is an other-wordly adventure and has the sensation of witnessing someone else’s mind on drugs. It is brightly-colored illusions and it’s amazingly creative and enthralling, but I don’t necessarily need Meow Wolf as a song instead of a walk-through experience.

However, upon my second listen on Sunday, when I actually read every lyric, the album grew on me quickly and, perhaps because of anxiety-inducing news, I am particularly drawn to Miley’s song, “End of the World.” In the first verse, she tells a significant other that they’ve been thinking about the future like it's already theirs … but is it? Throughout the song, she toggles back and forth between imagining what we might do if tomorrow wasn’t coming for sure, and the choices we would make if it was. The answer in the song seems the same either way. We’d spend our dollars, throw our parties, visit Paris, watch the sunset, and hold each other.

We can never know how long our lives will last or how certain things will change for better and for worse. We try to remind ourselves of this, and we are often terrible at it. This is understandable. Life is complicated, most of us are just trying to make it through each day, and there are so. many. distractions. In addition, there are always multiple ways to look at and attempt to understand the world and what is most important.

During our recent trip to Australia, I wanted to tune out American news and sometimes I did well at that, but a lot happened during the couple of weeks we were gone and I ended up, at the very least, reading headlines on my phone. Then I’d try to get back into current moments as I was very grateful to be in Australia and every single place we visited. My mind switched back and forth between “the world is still good” and “the world is terrifying.” A specific non-news-related moment that seemed like both was during a tour when our guide pointed out trees where hundreds of bats hang upside down in the middle of the day. This was a mesmerizingly awful sight for someone who would typically be very afraid of bats up close. It was sort of a feeling of, “how could anyone live like this with bats hanging everywhere,” and also, “the world is so amazing that we have animals who are natural vampires just doing their day!” Being in a travel mindset enabled me to view this fleeting moment as interesting.

I continue to think about the benefit of viewing anything with a tourist lens. When we see pieces of the world that are new, different, uncomfortable (perhaps like the bats) or appalling (perhaps like many things in the news) - we are able to wonder, and wonder at its best leads to questions rather than swift conclusions or statements. To be clear, I am not conflating the scene of bats to witnessing new war and other rounds of violence. Rather, I want to note that there will always be contradictions in our experiences; we may witness a compelling world at the same time other worlds fall apart. When we look directly at the devastating angles, it’s important to pause and ask, “What does this mean?” and “What will I do next?”

As we planned our trip to Australia, I wondered sometimes whether it was the right time to go, in part because of the political climate at home and abroad. One thing that kept us planning was the thought: “If not now, then when?” Things could always get worse. Unfortunately - and so very tragically - they have. This makes our Australian trip that included uninterrupted quality time with my mom and interactions with kind people and nature all the more precious to me.

The world - from my American point of view - is rapidly changing. With change comes decision making, and often, reprioritization of what we value. If we knew the future was already ours - or if we didn’t (which is more true than knowing that it is) - it would be amazing if our priorities were the same. If it were the end of the world - or if it wasn’t - maybe we’d spend our dollars, throw our parties, visit Paris, watch the sunset, and hold each other.

The hope is that above all, we’d hold each other fast (strangers included), and never let go.