Freak-out in Aisle 3

The coronavirus outbreak has turned me introspective. Maybe it’s because I think along dystopian and global-threat-possibility lines. Or maybe I’ve been consuming too many Pop-Tarts, frozen pizza, and Diet Mountain Dew to think normally.

Is there some higher power or master plan to all of this? If so, is He/She/They doing this to test each generation? To harden them? Or instead, is this just life and all of the threats, varieties, and unexpected events that can occur at any moment? From asteroids to war and every other danger to our existence, we must always be aware of what can scar or end our lives.

Yet we can’t live in constant fear.

I’m saying this to myself as much as to you. I have both extrovert and introvert elements. At times I love being with friends and meeting new people, while other times I’m happy being alone. So I can handle staying at home for weeks better than many—but I almost lost it at CostCo.

My first time out after being home for a week, my wife was comfortable to explore the aisles, checking the ground beef and picking a pork roast. I quickly scanned the aisles—I’m always a fast shopper, pick what I want, maybe with a little regret later but for the most part solid with my choices—and wanted to keep moving. But Janelle was still looking. She had come to grips with the threat and adjusted to the new world, so she didn’t have a problem. Yet I did. I started to distrust everyone. They could be infected. They could be ignoring their symptoms or didn’t even know they were carriers. One came close. I changed places but another walked too near as they passed. A third reached across my cart to grab something off of a shelf. I needed to move. Struggling against my urge to run the hell out of there, I went to Janelle who instantly noticed something was wrong and told me to go to the car. I did and used the next twenty minutes to find myself again, the rational, level-headed man I depended on to navigate this ever-shifting world (one that had now taken “shifting” to a whole new level).

I need to be strong. We need to be strong—and resilient and smart. We will get back to normal, though that normal will be different. Like after the Great Recession, 9/11, and other milestones, that normal will be tainted, more uncertain, dangerous in a way. Our myth of protection and safety is just that: a myth. Hell, we’re all on a tiny marble of a planet in a vast, cold universe. Safety is fleeting, as are our lives   But we’ve shown we’re more resilient than anyone would’ve ever given us credit for. The fact that we can outrun any other creatures over long distances isn’t the reason we’ve risen to the top of the food chain. It’s because we’re hardier and too damn stubborn to fail as a species.