Balancing Risk and Care

This morning, a little after five, I sit in the full darkness. The glow of my screen illuminates my fingers’ peripatetic movement over the black keys of my laptop while cars on Pleasant Street already plow through the early morning, intent on delivering their unknown drivers to distant locations.

The quiet roads of the early pandemic are slowly returning toward normal volume. I suppose this is good, but already I miss the early days of silence when this terrible virus brought normal life as we knew it to a screeching stop. It was a little like a snow day when everything is gratefully suspended and we hunker down in our cozy homes and wait for the snow to melt. But this was different. We were fearful but most of us had hopes that in a few weeks or perhaps a month or two, we would resume normal life up right where we had left off.

It hasn’t worked out that way. Now six months in, we’ve been through one wave of sickness and death here in Massachusetts. My friend Barry Morgan died unseen and will never come back. Others are struggling with the after effects of this dangerous virus. Infection rates are now quite low but threatening to rise again as they have in so many other parts of the country. What will the second wave be like? A small, barely noticeable rise or another perilous spike of infections, hospitalizations and death? Now, credible people like our family doctor say that two years is reasonable estimate for when the virus will really be under control.

Meanwhile, we get on with our lives as the weird mix of normal and physically contracted that they are. Zoom seminars and retreats make learning and connecting possible beyond our wildest dreams. Want to go on a Zen retreat in Ireland but don’t have the money to fly over? No problem. Want to learn how to scream-sing like a rock star from one of the world’s foremost authorities on the subject in South America? No problem.

But if you want to visit your elderly parents or have your children return to the ordinary melee of school and friends that we assume is healthy for normal growth—then you’re in a quandary. We’re in a quandary. Our ongoing predicament requires us all to continue to practice precautions that still feel very un-normal.

We have some neighbors near our place in the country (a quiet street in a nearby section of Worcester) who seem to think the pandemic is over. A nice young couple, they have a continual parade of friends over for dinner and hanging out. No masks, no apparent distancing, no fear. Though we occasionally hear their voices and laughter while we practice our Zoom-Zen (our internet connection is better there than here at the Temple), that’s not our main concern—the spread of COVID is. Do they think they are immune? Have they carefully increased the bubble of their contacts through negotiation and planning? We don’t know, but we are careful not to get too close.

The behavioral decisions that balance safety and connection are exhausting to make. They are not individual decisions. It’s not just about how I feel, but about some considered estimation of how my actions will impact the people in my bubble and all the others around me.

My grandson is about to enter pre-school. My actions impact him and his safety as his impact me. The pre-school is taking reasonable crazy precautions and everything will be all outside for the first few months. But then what?

My elderly parents are at their summer home by a lake in Vermont and need a family member with them for safety. Is it safe for them for me to go up even if I get a COVID test prior to travel? Is it safe for me to come back to my ‘bubble’ even given their carefully planned rotating care-takers? How do we make such decisions that are so fraught with unknowable consequences?

It’s exhausting. Probably no easy way other than continued attention and conversation including as many dimensions as possible. Being up to date on recommended guidelines and local regulations. Reading the latest about how the virus is transmitted and what are best practices. Taking into account the emotional dimensions of these decisions and the different levels of risk tolerance that are comfortable to all of the people involved.

Then we make our best decision and onward in this ever-shifting new un-normal.