The Path

The day started fairly normally. I got up, went to the bathroom, put on my shorts and started the coffee. Pretty normal. The coffee gurgled a greeting and started dripping. The caffeine apparently is atomized so I began to become conscious even before ingesting the precious liquid. The toast popped up, one slice actually flying out of the toaster in a vain attempt to escape. The toast now lathered with butter, gave me a slight sense of guilt for what I was doing for my body. But at least I also had a bowl of cottage cheese and some berries to wrestle with the cholesterol laden foes in my body. It will be a fair fight.

As the news popped up on CNN, the latest death toll drew me in as it always does. I have become immune and dulled to these numbers. They are becoming noise, until CNN had the nerve to have a two minute segment about father and son doctors dying of Covid 19. That was followed by an elderly sweet couple who died an hour apart from one another in a hospital ICU. Really, is that fair? Why can’t they allow me to escape death and destruction at least during breakfast?

The Beachfront Bargain show has gotten my attention lately. Happy couples are browsing through ocean front homes complaining about the kitchen appliances being dated and the carpets needing to be replaced by hardwood flooring. Still, the view of the beach from their spacious deck made the 1.2 million dollar price tag more acceptable. There was no talk of Covid or any other unpleasantness.

Unfortunately, the office reminds me of reality. Masks, warning signs, hand sanitizers and mostly empty parking lots bring us back to the new reality. The mumbled “Hi” struggles to escape from a cloth mask while facial clues underneath are absent. I can imagine a smile, but it might be a frown or a worried look. Who knows? I recall research noting that 60% of communication is visual, mostly facial. Even when present we remain distant- six feet, but even more in the emotional sense.

Our new times have forced me to learn and use Zoom for work. I used to think of “zoom” as a verb. It has evolved into a proper noun and back to a verb. I know this because I googled it. I try a bit of banter and some human interaction as I stare into the screen looking at my client. His gigantic hands fill the screen as he makes a point. But this slight intimacy ends with a click on “shared screen” as business and numbers take over. I feel a sense of pleasure near the end of our meeting as I resume a brief visual interlude. A dog walks by wagging its tail in the background bringing a smile to my face. This is an actual family, not just figures in a TV series.

Gone are the empty shelves at the supermarket, but there will be no sense of safety here until I see a shelf full of Clorox Wipes, which aren’t anticipated to be available for public use for another six months. Masks are everywhere- customers and staff. But that’s not the case in many southern and western places where we see huge drinking parties and folks happily waving and shouting to each other. I guess these folks think if they show some bravado the virus will decide to move on.

As we read and listen to TV it is all too apparent that there is growing division and separation in our society as a side effect to this new order. Science is reduced to opinion and opinion is elevated to fact. Hatred, anger and separation are emerging with force. The common mission of uniting and defeating an enemy after 911 is gone. We are descending into small tribes, suspicious and angry about the threat of others. With the economy rapidly declining, I’m not surprised to see people taking care of themselves and their family and withdrawing from social responsibility.

Escaping this dystopia briefly I tried later to offer some perishable food items to an elderly couple next door as we would be away for a couple of weeks on business, reluctantly so, and with all cautions practiced. However, our polite email offer was rejected with the gentleman noting that he and his wife were both at very high risk and nothing comes into their house without being wrapped and cleaned first. He added they haven’t left the house or yard in months. I recalled in one visit that I had at a prison as part of my job a few years ago, that even the 10% of the population in solitary lockdown get an hour a day to walk in The Yard.

A simple walk along the canal involves planning. Do you have your masks and goggles? Who is walking or riding behind or in front of you? Are they wearing masks? Are they breathing hard from exercise? The ducks at least don’t seem to have much of a care about social distancing- lucky ducks, as they say. Maybe I will go to a movie since they are opening next week. But I read there will still be social distancing in the lobby and when seating as well. Mask use is required except when eating the $8 popcorn and drinking the $4 soda at your seat. 

There are stories of bravery, compassion and sharing but they seem to be crowded out by the negative. I wonder if I am in an endless dream loop? It certainly reminds me of a nightmare where I can’t get away and can’t make sense of what is happening. Maybe I will awaken. This can’t be real. But if it is real, perhaps we are at a choice point. Should we continue down a path of selfishness, greed and division? Or shall we decide this experience reminds us of the smallness and interdependence of our world. Maybe this experience will help us to be more humble and aware of our common fragility, needs and vulnerabilities? It looks like we will need to cooperate and work together. We’ll soon see which path we take.

Wait, the Beachfront Bargain show is on- I really do like the spacious master bath. Sweet. I’ll update the fixtures of course.