It’s day 63 for me. I’ve grown to hate the Q-word (you know the one). It’s a negative word used to describe something that’s paying off and necessary, and, therefore, positive. But I also hate it when people decide the word is the issue, when really it’s so often the associations of the word, or the behaviours we feel have to accompany a word. So 63 days have gone by, and I’m still sitting here, tapping away on my keyboard, only stopping every once in a while for coffee and food breaks. It feels like the day is split up into thirds, according to when I get hungry.
As a writer, it’s pretty easy to work from home. But that’s not the case for some, and for them going to work means a little more risk. It means the day being defined by more than meals. My cats get hungry, too, and when they do, I’m reminded that, in this house, we’re basically just apes trying to keep safe while we can. But as we move up a phase, some are being asked more of themselves. When I drove my significant other downtown today for her first day back at work in over two months, the roads were pretty empty for quarter-to-nine on a weekday.
Lots of people are still being cautious and staying home. And if you’re in a position where you feel like you’ve been launched back into society blazing and not ready, it’s important to recognize that even though case counts on the island are pretty low for now, some really basic safety mechanisms might be still tested. And while testing them, your thoughts might sound like this:
I don’t want to walk into that room with six other people. I can’t. Who knows where they’ve been, or who they’ve had contact with?
Or: That’s not six feet, you slimy little… “Yeah, have a great day, too, Bob!”
It’s important to recognize that these inner dialogues stem from the evolutionary need for safety. The media taps into that need, and often opts for the story with the most shock value. The end result of all this depends on where you fall on the caution scale: live and let live, or, like me, a ball of incessant stress.
If you’re like me, know this: there are a lot of articles out there about feeling anxiety, and very few of them specify the important difference these days between hearing and heeding. It’s important to hear those red flags, but it’s not always necessary to listen to them. Only you can be the judge of where that line is for you depending on who you are and what your job is; for me, it’s important to push myself in small, daily ways so that I learn, over time, which parts of those thoughts are rational and which parts aren’t.
To a certain extent, all fears about becoming infected are valid, but so is optimism about cases staying low or decreasing throughout the summer, about one day being able to hug, even without reservations. Living in rational fear is still new, and remember that it serves a very important evolutionary function—when the tiger is chasing you, run; hide; play dead.
But here on the island, it’s only sunbathing on the plains, at least for now. So enjoy a little more normalcy while you can. Be cautious; keep one eye on the tiger at all times, and as long as you’re six feet away from it, and scrubbing scents off your hands that might attract it, carry on with physical distancing and expanding your bubble in small ways that you’re comfortable with. Pushing yourself can, understandably, be part of that process.