In this deeply personal essay, Keti Skhirtladze weaves dreams, music, and resilience into a poignant tapestry of hope—reminding us that even in life’s darkest moments, a whisper of ‘ It’s gonna be alright ‘ can light the way.
On gloomy days, when my life feels mundane, I look forward to sleep—I brush my teeth, wash my face, and in a span of moments, I dissolve into the richness of the imagination—a dreamscape filled with endless life scenarios. At times, my dreams feel so real and vivid that the line between them and waking life becomes very thin.
“Only if I could sleep through the entire summer of 2023,” I was thinking. Actually, I’d skip the entire pandemic, which felt like one endless year, filled with boredom and dread. I’d trade it for a good dream. One could stretch that idea over a whole life, thinking you can skip the bad parts. But you can’t pick and choose, right?
Don’t get me wrong, I love life—just not mine. In the blank summer of 2023, when I was about to turn 29, I received an email terrifying me: due to the financial struggle of the local magazine I used to work at, I was fired. Even though working there felt like waiting for Godot—me – Estragon, and my salary – Godot, sadness and fear surged through me as I read the notice. The magazine and I were broke together, there was comfort in this shared despair. Now, I was out of a job and out of company.
At that time, I was about to go to Spain to see my favorite band, and saved every penny for it. I had always dreamed of seeing the band live, but I didn’t foresee being flat broke.
In my younger days, when I was full of hope, dreams, and delusions, I spent long summers at my country house, far removed from the ceaseless noise of city life. The stillness of that uninhabited place, surrounded by a sky full of stars, sparked the imaginations of the neighborhood kids, allowed us to believe in the magic and mystery of the world. There, beneath the mountains and the moon, all the secrets of the otherworldly universe seemed possible.
On one starry night, as I sat outside, one of my friends played a song on his phone. I’d never heard anything like it—the voice emanating from the tiny speaker was both angelic and demonic, delicate yet powerful. This hypnotic voice, creating a perfect balance of softness and intensity, I could not make sense of it. It left a lasting impression, as if something shifted in my consciousness. Years have passed since that moment, and now I was about to hear that voice live.
A week prior to my trip to Spain, my mom lost her sense of smell—a symptom of the well-known virus. She tested positive. My sister insisted we both get tested. She went first and tested negative. Caught between job interviews, I was in a rush. As soon as the doctor swabbed the back of my throat, I started to rise, ready to leave. ‘Oh, wait, there’s something here…’ I heard the nurse’s voice. I was positive…
On a sun-soaked day, as I was walking home from the clinic, with my face covered by a white mask that already seemed archaic to the world, I noticed sadness in people’s eyes as they passed me—or maybe it was just in my own eyes.
The virus had hit me hard a year ago, and now I was unsure what to expect. As I got home, I isolated myself in a room—me, Covid, and my sadness. I lay in bed, thinking about life, unsure where it was taking me. Seemed like it was taking me nowhere, not even to Spain. I fell asleep, burdened by those thoughts.
A voice woke me up—the most beautiful voice I had ever heard—singing softly in my ear: ‘It’s gonna be alright, it’s gonna be alright, everything is going to be alright.’ As the voice impinged on my eardrum, I felt a calming presence, peace filled my body, freeing me from fear. I couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. Suddenly, I recognized the voice—it was the hypnotic voice I’d heard on a starry night.
Morning started with bliss and harmony. I spent five days in my room, physically and mentally at peace. I was not worrying about work or going to Spain, just knew it would be alright. On the seventh day, I was in Spain, standing before the man whose voice had guided me through a dream, now singing in front of me.
During challenging times, this song comes to me, reassuring me that everything will be alright.
