Baffled and…liberated
Last week, we traveled to our eastward neighbor, Arizona. We’ve been through the state at least three times within the last two years, each time proceeding with caution due to the state’s historically high rate of Covid-19 infections.
The reason for this visit was to see a relative we haven’t seen since before the quarantine. The time seemed right, what with all of us vaccinated and the infection rates, in general, going down.
Immediately upon arrival, we noticed something: life has moved on from the pandemic. Masks are not a thing. Those who wear them are in a very slim minority.
Coming from cautious California, I was at once baffled and…liberated.
Yes, I’ll admit I felt free.
Sure, I was worried, but the worry was soon replaced by a sense of being.
My head simply wasn’t clouded with the notion that I’m bound to catch this dreaded virus, so I had better be fastidious with wearing a mask and treat objects as though they are raw chicken.
Did it really take crossing a state line to feel this way?
In short, yes. Where I live in California, there’s still a lot of mask wearing. And whom I live with, there’s still a high amount of concern and caution.
So, which way is the right one?
Both are inherently dangerous to one’s health.
One involves adopting a kind of reckless liberty while running the risk of potential short and long term health consequences.
The other involves being safe and protected from a physical health standpoint while feeding an ever hungry fear of the worst-case scenario.
In the end, I chose the path I usually take: the middle one. In places where I was passing through quickly, I didn’t wear a mask. In places where the crowds were starting to feel a little too close, I wore a mask. I didn’t know who was vaccinated or not, so I let my instinct guide me.
A few days later, I travelled to a work meeting—my division’s first in over two years.
Again, I was out of sorts. To hug or not to hug, to mask or not. With all of us vaccinated by corporate mandate combined with daily health checks, I felt much more at ease dropping the mask almost entirely.
Two full working days and two nights mingling with this cohort of about 150 people seemed like a relatively safe experience. I did however find myself waiting for symptoms. Something. Anything to tell me that this pandemic is still running rampant.
But nothing happened. I arrived home unscathed. I followed a protocol we’ve implemented for the last few trips I’ve taken: wear a mask inside and sleep on the couch for a few nights.
Does that sound crazy?
Probably, and so does all the other wildly inconsistent policies and practices we have in neighboring states, corporate meetings, and on and on.
None of it makes sense. And it probably never will. The only thing that makes sense to me is trying to live as healthy as possible, and that means gradually letting go of the anxiety, one breath at a time, sometimes masked, other times not.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: Unsplash
