Corona Reflections

It's funny to remember that I thought the hard part was 6 weeks ago. 

The new rules, restrictions, limits on freedom, and adjusting to a totally new way of life. If we could just get through these stay-home-orders, then some normalcy will resume. Then we can breathe a little. For myself and also probably for many others, I've been in a psychological survival mode, only allowing myself a very minimal scope of vision for the future. All the days beyond May 8th, the official day the stay-home order for Colorado is lifted, have been blacked out on the calendar. It was just too much to try to predict where we'd be by then, anyways. 6 weeks ago, restaurants, small businesses, and schools everywhere were forced to close at a moment's notice, and everyone was sent into a tailspin panic practically over night. Therefore, it felt silly to try to gauge what things would be like at the end of lockdown-- anything could happen. 

Predictably, there has been a lot of noise. Arguing. Statistics. New Data. Apparently "debunked" data. Evidence. Counter Evidence. Opinions and strong words. And regardless of what your own views on the situation and government reaction, there are uncomfortable truths that we are stuck with, once you can mute the noise and just think for yourself for a moment. We can't realistically live on lockdown until a vaccine exists, 12-18 months from now. No one is really arguing we should. And that means, whether now or a little bit later, those of us who have been holed up (not already working in a hospital, grocery store, or other governmentally-deemed "essential" business), are going to have to enter a world that suddenly and markedly is more dangerous. 

This part feels harder. On one hand, I'm actually a bit disturbed to how adjusted I've become to this isolated, restricted existence. I've felt better prepared than most, seeing how dumb headaches already meant I spend a great deal of time by myself, alone and restricted. A part of me truly feels that-- theoretically, anyways, I could stay in this mode until there is a vaccine. I can continue to get groceries pick-up and delivery styles so I never have to enter a store. I can still go on daily walks, getting fresh air and exercise. I have what I need now, so why can't this continue into the future? Why can't I just be in lockdown mode until there is a vaccine?

And yeah-- I am well-aware how lame and cowardly this makes me. I am not in a particularly at-risk group-- health-wise or age-wise. It would be absurd for me to really continue this way until a vaccine exists. But I'm already used  to making decisions based upon fear of suffering because of said dumb headaches. So this is kind of just taking this fear-based way of thinking all the way to its natural conclusions: just lock yourself up and continue taking extreme precautions to protect yourself from any threat of harm. 

But of course, I don't really want this. At first, it feels like this is what I want because I seem to be doing just fine with it so far. But, once again, I've been in survival mode and no one really thrives in survival mode. When I actually allow myself to feel anything besides fear and paranoia, it dawns on me how much I miss my parents and the rest of my family.  I can't go on not seeing them for another year or so. Of course, I knew on some level this entire time that I missed them, but until recently, I never really allowed myself to feel that I missed them. I miss going to Mass and not having to pretend seeing it on Youtube is even remotely the same thing. I miss just leisurely strolling through the grocery store, and how normal it used to be. When the panic takes a break, there's just a whole of sadness. I feel like Guy Montag at the beginning of Fahrenheit 451 when he is randomly asked, "Are you happy?" And he think it's such an absurd question, but then, after a little thought, he realizes-- to his surprise-- that he is, in fact, not happy. To some extent or another,  I figure many-- perhaps most of us have got to be experiencing some depression. 

It doesn't feel like the old adage is true-- that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm pretty sure lockdown has made me weaker-- much more fearful and cowardly. I know that at some point, I'm simply going to have to get over the fear-- to go to church, to see my family and friends, to maybe actually brave walking into a grocery store when necessary.  Not getting Coronavirus is just one basic human need of many. And obviously it doesn't make sense to live my entire life around not getting sick while my other basic needs are wholly neglected. Of course I know this. And I also feel like it shouldn't be nearly as hard for me to accept this as it is. 

It's these times when the Gospel becomes REALLY real. When Christ telling us to pick up our cross and follow him actually means something. When "Be not afraid," isn't just an out-of-context bible verse plastered on a magnet or something. When you feel deeply the wounds of your own soul and of the entire world and suddenly you think, "Yeah-- I get that we are way too weak and have far too many problems to have ever figured it out ourselves. The only way we could have any hope was for God to actually come down from Heaven and save us in an everlasting way."

I wish I could end on a happier note. I always try to end with hope because the world has enough gloom. But I also want to be authentic and not sound like some dumb cliche about "dancing in the rain" or something-- because that junk is quite useless, when you're really suffering. Because I'm human, sometimes I just authentically feel sad, confused, and frustrated. I think God is trying to teach us how to be human again. I'm not going to pretend why God allowed this plague to happen because none of us can possibly know. But I do think many of us have lost our way and maybe the way this is shaking me up-- and has shaken up most everybody- is very intentional. If you're feeling excess fear (like me), I think it's an invitation to take God's hand-- it's always been there, waiting for us, but perhaps now that it's even more evident we can't do this on our own, we will actually take it and try harder to trust Him this time.