Many people seem to think we will be going back to something more like normal pretty soon, or at least eventually. Few believe this present state of being will become our permanent fate; or worse, the beginning of a downward trajectory that will reduce our lives to shadows of what they used to be.
Time has become heavy; it slogs by thickly. There is nothing fast or simple about these days. Think about it: It wasn't that long ago Corona-V was an obscure headline buried under many other news stories.
But now there is no semblance of a news cycle any longer. It's Corona-V all the time, 24 hours a day.
Media outlets are struggling to adapt to a situation they couldn't train for. Natural disasters like hurricanes and earthquakes yield predictable patterns of stories, from the breaking news, to the "day after," to publishing a list of resources, to how to prepare for the next one. Any veteran newsperson could write it all out *before* the event even begins.
But this pandemic is unscripted; journalists have no gameplan or precedent. We're as lost as everyone else.
***
It's perplexing to assess our collective mental health. Are we increasingly gravitating toward illusions and away from a reality we are not built to handle?
There are the kind of dreams reflecting the anxiety of our situation, and there are others where our dream-selves proceed as they always did before this crisis struck. In these fantasies, no one wears masks or gloves or maintains social distance, even symbolically.
Strangers are not automatically viewed as possible vectors of a fatal disease.
Hugs are not distant memories.
Dead friends live.
We move fluidly through the world, not trapped in place.
Of course, in the case of any dreams during these nights, our brains are trying to process information we were largely unprepared to receive. It's true there had been warnings -- Laurie Garrett's book "The Coming Plague" over a quarter century ago is one that I remember reading and absorbing at the time.
But the longer a warning like that doesn't come true, the more a book like hers gathers dust on your bookshelf. It just might be time to re-read it now.
An alternative is to embrace the illusion that all will be fine in time. And maybe it will be fine.
This must be a most difficult time for President Trump, a self-described germaphobe. Of all the kinds of crises that might have occurred on his watch -- wars, bombs, spy scandals -- wouldn't you know it would be the invasion of a new germ that got him.
Now the White House confirms that one of his valets has tested positive for Covid-19, the enemy has gotten inside his inner circle.
***
Personally, I have never been a germaphobe. In fact, I barely gave such threats a second thought. Of course now I am taking care to wash hands, wear masks, and keep distance from others, but I don't compulsively use hand sanitizer or freak out when somebody sneezes.
When asked about it, I have told friends you can't raise six kids without being exposed to the great mass of germs circulating in your community. In addition, when my kids were little, I always wanted to be with them when they were sick.
I would take them candy and games, skipping out of work to spend an hour or two with them, hoping to cheer them up.
This became second nature to me. A few months before the lockdown, a friend saw me at a party. She said she would keep apart because was coughing and sneezing plus she was sad about something. I told her to come and give me a hug. "I'm not afraid of your germs. I've already had everything there is to get."
That was before Corona-V, or at least our consciousness of its presence. I might not be so arrogant now!
***
Optical illusions are the type most familiar to us, but the concept of an illusion is broad enough that it can be applied to all of our senses. We might experience hearing a sound or touching an object, when that sound or object is indeed present but not in the manner that our senses suggest.
When this happens, we are mistaken.
There's a separate kind of visual experience -- hallucination. One of the most disorienting parts of my illnesses last year was when I was hallucinating. It was terrifying to see the face of a little man in my window mocking me. This went on for hours. I called in attendants and they checked the window but told me no one was there.
Finally, peace arrived. I could suddenly see it was the way sunlight played on the window that had frightened me, not a little man.
Illusions are bound to visit many of us in this state of isolation. We may even convince ourselves of a collective illusion to get through this period.
We may imagine that the worst is passed, that it is safe now to go where we are urged not to go and do what we are asked not to do. We may become careless.
Maybe that is true. Or maybe just perceiving it to be true is enough. But watch out if you start seeing that little man in the window.
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