How terrified people become unnerves me. Their fears reveal how malleable they can become; they can cause absurd if not detrimental behavior. An image locked itself into my mind. When the minor earthquake struck several years ago, most of us had no idea what was happening. It was bizarre to feel the building heave, to see water in my glass resemble waves crashing at the shore. A coworker cried, “what’s happening.” Trembling of the earth let to perturbations of the mind. As I headed toward the stairwell, for we all went to leave the building, unaware of what else to do, I spied this guy head into the elevator. We made eye contact before he vanished from sight. Having seen the grim reaper come for him, would surely have invoked less fear than I saw emitting from his expression. I tried to tell him that he should take the stairs, but how inhuman he looked, how lost and astray he appeared, left me speechless.
When we first began to shutter ourselves to slow the spread of COVID-19, news articles circulated that ibuprofen may intensify the disease’s impact. The articles shared this perspective, apparently arising from some preliminary statements issued by certain French authorities Earlier, while also conveying that no one else of note understood what prompted the such a claim. That weekend while in Giant, I needed to grab some Advil. The OTC shelf for painkillers was emptied, that is, except for ibuprofen. Those pills were fully stocked. Perfect.
Returning from a run, I held the door for a person struggling to move her bike into the building. The side entrance requires a fob. The scanner sits to the left of the door. The door, which is somewhat heavy ,is hinged on the right side so that it swings toward you as you enter. Strong springs press to close the door, thus requiring you to apply some effort whenever you come or go. While ferrying goods, you must exhibit some finesse lest the door slams into you or what you’re carrying. She didn’t seem happy that I was helping.
Another person approached. I tried to do the thing where you hold the door open so that the person behind you can maintain the door’s position as you continue onward. She refused to touch the door. She also endeavored to maintain as much distance between herself and me as she could. That she didn’t simply say, “let it close, I’ll follow,” confuses me given how much effort she applied trying to sideway limbo herself through the opening as she forced me to prop open the passageway (or let the door slam into her) while also maximizing the distance between us. Fear – palpable anxiety that looking at her forced you to internalize and experience as well – widened her eyes, tightened her cheeks, and sucked all air from the room. She looked more of an addled beast than human.
When I was running, I passed by homes. Many are for sale. The idea of not renting appeals to me, though the desire to remain in the DC area doesn’t appeal to me. Mountains call to me. Rivers. Backpacking and climbing destinations that are not so far away that they are “destinations” in the big notion sense of the word. I long to renew those days spent in Portland, when I could escape to an alpine lake for a weekend, weekend after weekend. Not that I need Portland, for many locations provide such proximate splendor. Yet, if this region continues to serve as my nest, then to move to a house does appeal to me. A yard for a garden and bird houses. A larger kitchen. Space for various activities. An office, and a room for games. And so on.
Also, the way this nation seems to be heading, I foresee chaotic descents into societal madness, as seen in books like The Road or The Parable of the Sower. People with guns behaving horrendously. Distribution systems shuttered. Electricity perhaps lost as well. I picture lunatics sieging my apartment building for goods. They could post themselves at each of the exits to slaughter people as they seek to flee. Meanwhile, their crew could go door-to-door, taking on an apartment at a time. The fearful will let this happen to them. Sans ability to uprise together, we’ll die alone. These thoughts play out in my mind as I imagine opportunities to band together, to escape. I imagine such scenarios play out in the little suburban area where the houses are, through which I run. With such thoughts in play, I witness this strange, horrified person eschew anything close to contact, with anything or anyone. She disturbs me more than the nightmare scenarios that plague my mind, for her fears appear as actions whereas mine are fleeting visions of a world gone wrong. Her anxieties and concerns have transformed our world. Mine, remind me that we must sift the irrational from the actual, even if it’s not clear at times how to do so.