Out of our comfort zones we can conquer our fears and this virus
IT’S the simple things. Human connection. A hug. A high five. A clumsy embrace with a parent in the hallway. Ever since the Special Cabinet Committee on Covid-19 urged us to stay two metres apart, we’ve all been coming to terms with this pandemic in our own way, just as we’re all coming to the realisation of the severity of coronavirus and the extreme measures required to level the curve, preventing its spread.
Travel, work, social gatherings: all plans have been upended and we are living in a completely different reality than the one we enjoyed a week ago.
Each day throws up unthinkable revelations and yet life goes on.
As the drunken scenes in Templebar on Saturday night prove, many young people aren’t taking the virus seriously.
Of course it is and will always be the prerogative of young people to rail against the prescribed advice of the powers that be, but extreme times necessitate extreme measures and the publican in question should have acted more responsibly. In Italy thousands have been collared by the police for less.
The shadow of this virus is firmly planted on Europe. For a first world continent to be the hot zone for a pandemic that is killing thousands every day is deeply worrying. With all our wealth, all our resources, we are facing into the biggest threat to western civilisation since World War II.
So what can we do?
We can, in a word, comply. Comply with the advice of the experts. Comply with our conscience and avoid the temptation to revert back to our comfort zones of, in some cases, laziness and recklessness.
Our freedom has been compromised but it is a very small price to pay if we can wake up in May and find that all of our loved ones are healthy and carrying on with their lives.
I drove across the country on Friday and my first pit stop was at a petrol station. Social distance wasn’t being observed inside and as I took a step back from the counter having commented on the coronavirus, the elderly woman behind shouted: ‘Mad! The whole world’s gone f ***ing mad! Cop on!’
I’m pretty sure she wasn’t talking to me but to some higher power, but she did look stressed, Usually people wear shop workers down with talk of the weather – which was also horrific – but this time it was something far more serious.
I had been reluctant to go back to Kerry, but it was a matter of urgency as I needed to check in on my Dad. Having got some essential supplies in and enjoyed some time in his company, I was painfully conscious of how self isolation can and will affect people like him.
Distance adds salt to the wound of separation and having driven half the country it pained me that I couldn’t shake his loose skinned hand and pat him on the back.
The naked, raw emotion of what we have to endure and what is at stake has everyone reaching out for comfort. For some it is Netflix, others a good book or sitting by the fire. I found my peace walking 9km on a beach I’ve visited since my childhood.
Today our humanity is thrown into sharp relief and you know what, it’s beautiful. The restrictions can and will cause us to communicate more directly with friends and family and that will not always be easy. We’re in this together now. Let’s look after each other.