Notes on a Pandemic

Photo by Edwin Hooper on Unsplash.

What a ride the last month has been. A lot has changed with the release of this tiny snippet of genetic code into the wild. People are dead and dying, and many more are ill. Humans have stopped moving around the planet in vast quantities. Humans have stopped moving around many of their own countries in vast quantities.

The social order has inverted to be the anti social order.

The need for offices, has, in many cases, been obviated. Our instinct for connection has multiplied the users of one communication platforms twenty fold (Zoom, which went from 10 million to 200 million users in a matter of months). Handshakes and hugs are offensive weapons. My mother has been confined to the house by her government.

I’ve been in relative isolation for three weeks now. This last week, I didn’t speak to a human “in the flesh” for eight days. I don’t feel at all disconnected, as it’s been very easy (too easy?) to stay in touch via Zoom/Hangouts/Facebook. It’s been an interesting period. Now that the initial anxiety has worn off, I’ve been able to take stock of the situation. Here are a few notes on this pandemic experience.

Wants and needs

I know more about my basic needs and wants. When faced with a lack of access to certain goods and services, I feel much less driven to acquire them. I often, while wandering the house, think “I should get one of those”. Having spent three weeks in my house and survived perfectly well, the secondary thought “you don’t really need one” pops fairly automatically into my mind. It’s true — I’m getting by just fine with what I have — the standard contents of a one bedroom bachelor pad.

I have food, shelter, internet and some books. I have not yet gone mad — some of my needs (company for example) may well be tested in the coming months. For now, I survive, and even thrive. I am grateful for this privilege, knowing that it has not been extended to the most vulnerable, sadly.

Creativity and Generosity

An interesting response in myself — and I have seen this throughout my sphere — is the instinct towards creativity and generosity. I’ve wanted to make things. The poetry is flowing, and recordings of poems. I want to write these short essays. I want to share these outputs with humans. I’ve watched creative adaptation to the crisis emerge. Open mics have gone online, and I have performed.

I’ve instinctively started offering what I can — in my case, that’s guided meditation classes online, as often as I can. And I’ve been astounded by the generous offers of others to me — places to stay, books, food runs and so on

The Future just shrank

The horizon of The Future just got a lot closer. I am used to thinking months or years ahead. I would have had ideas about courses I wanted to take, places I wanted to visit or experiences I wanted to have. Typically my year is anchored by trips overseas — my annual excursion to see my family for example. There are workshops I’d have registered for or concerts I’d have bought tickets for.

None of that seems relevant right now, nor even possible. When my mind’s eye thinks ahead beyond a couple of weeks, cognitive dissonance kicks in — it’s a fuzzy, hazy way ahead.

The same can be said of the past. So many “old ways” have crumbled, and quickly. We have been condensed into this moment, this crisis, and that is all we are allowed to think about — any other “when” is invalid. As a meditator, who bangs on about the present moment regularly, it’s like the whole world is suddenly forced into mindfulness of itself. Fascinating.

System change at high speed

The world just put about half of its citizens in lockdown, to varying extents, in a matter of months. That is some mindfuck shit right there, people. Aeroplanes are grounded. Economic systems have been ravaged. Governments are scrambling to find ways to “press pause”. Emissions are down, ventilators are being mass produced, customs and habits have been reshaped.

People often say “it’s too hard to change things”. I’ve actually been guilty of thinking this way myself recently. I’ve been a bit fatalistic that the world was just going to go on eating itself and climate disaster was going to inevitably unfold. I’d hoped that the rate of change would be slow enough that I could coast through the next 40–50 years relatively unperturbed. That was naive I see.

Humans have a craving for stability that has seldom been recognised by history. Political and social edifices that once seemed eternal regularly turn into rubble — physically in the case of the Berlin wall. Impermanence exists at the smallest and largest scales (the leaf on the tree outside my window to the universe itself). Impermanence plays out in geological timescales or as fast as the sneeze of a bat.

There is hope and terror alike in this fact. It is the thing turned into we must be mindful of.

There is no “truth” in crises

There is too much information in the world, and too much debate over who is trustworthy to share that. Everyone has a skeleton in their closet if you look closely enough, or a hidden agenda, and nobody is completely creditable in the eyes of the entire population. On top of that, an exponentially spreading virus causes change at rates far beyond the average mind’s capacity to keep up. Finding the truth of the situation, in a world built to warp that very concept, has become Very Fucking Hard.

Yet look for it we must. I haven’t found a foolproof way, but I’ve found that maintaining as steady a mind as I can is crucial. When I’m activated into fear, I believe things more quickly. We need our critical thinking abilities to stay online in this sort of situations, otherwise we’re reacting rather than acting. A certain amount of panic can help — I’ve been scared into staying inside, and even on reflection from a calmer place, I can see that’s probably wise (for now).

I’ve also found a day-by-day approach is best. It’s YAGNI — you ain’t gonna need it. Minimise my information consumption to things that will affect my day. Government restrictions for example. Updates on health best practices from healthcare workers. Maybe some stats (there are a couple of great FB groups with data modellers doing solid prediction work that I follow).

I get a workable version of The Truth if I keep my mind steady and minimise my consumption of media to a few trusted places.

Social media continues to shine and horrify

I’m so glad that technology allows me to feel connected when direct social content has been taken away. I’m glad that I can see my mum and my brother and sister and the rest of my family over the internet. I’m very glad I still have a job and a means to do it, unlike many others.

Twitter is still a cesspool and Facebook often removes people’s ability to think about what they are posting. The last thing we need is further over-activation of nervous systems, but I can literally feel my lungs clench when I read my Twitter feed.

Unifying humans through fear

The general social consensus on what to do about COVID emerged pretty quickly. It went from “there’s a virus in China” to “everybody needs to lock themselves away right now, for months, nobody question this” in weeks, more or less. Shaming strangers has become legitimate. Draconian laws that support social distancing have been accepted in an eyeblink.

I’m absolutely on board with this as it happens. And yet… the world in the last few years, especially the Australian political context, has been extremely polarised. Diversity of opinion has been the hallmark of Democracy; polarisation is kind of an ugly cousin, yet still remains the essence. The lingering effect of this polarisation played its part in delaying responses, particularly in the US. Yet the unity of consensus progressed pretty quickly, in a way that we’d have loved to have seen on other issues (climate change anyone? Which will still probably destroy us with more certainty than any pandemic).

This is surprising, and perhaps concerning. The catalysing ingredient seems to have been fear. Fear of death on a mass scale. Fear that the tribe — your own kin — will be affected.

Large numbers of humans driven by fear don’t always have a great record in the history books.

We’re all agoraphobic now — trusting each other

I love being outside. Well, I used to. In the last few weeks, it’s become a horrific prospect. The air is tainted and everyone is a potential vector. Social distancing is enforced by markings on the ground and stern shop attendants.

Strangers looks alternate between stares of rage because you might have passed within 1.5 metres, to blasé, to kind overcompensation in the middle of the awkward social distancing dance we all do (sometimes) do.

I notice myself tensing up when I go out for my daily exercise. I notice myself attempt to shrink every time I pass a stranger. I fall into the slipstreams of joggers and a hint of aftershave or body odour leaves me worried I got too close. I cross the road to avoid encounters — I used to do this late at night, for women only, to de-escalate the possibility of being threatening. Now it’s equal opportunities.

I know it’s not just me. We’re all a little suspicious of each other. Fearful of the disease. I’m studying loving-kindness this year. It’s difficult to extend this to those who your system believes is an immediate threat.

That fear itself might become a disease in its own right if we are not careful. We will have to break these habits at some point.

New powers need a rollback mechanism

I’ll say it like this — if there was no virus, and all of the control mechanisms had been implemented anyway, I’d be arguing that a global coup d’etat had taken place with simultaneous authoritarian power grabs having been made in pretty much every western country.

We’ve accepted, willingly, restrictions on the most fundamental of our freedoms — movement, association, livelihood. Once again I note that I am in favour of this, for as long as it proves necessary.

Yet, weird things…. someone close to me now has her temperature taken on the way into her office. Society is being prompted to be entirely cashless, finally. My mother is locked in her house, alone, by the state.

I’ll only stop giving the conspiracy theorists (who I generally have little time for — they are just as much fixing for certainty/The Truth as much as anyone) partial credit when most of this stuff has been rolled back and the prospect of not being fined $11k for gathering in a group no longer exists.

Closing

So there you go. It’s a complex moment in history. Trying to be certain about any of it is a big ask. Don’t be so hard on yourself for not having all the answers right now. Try to live day to day, take whatever actions you need to to feel safe. Keep your mind open, watch when you are acting from fear and try to switch to love instead.

Peace,

Daragh