Unity in Social Distancing

Staying at home and keeping six feet away in any encounter with humans have a sense of loneliness and isolation that is unsettling at best. When the socially acceptable is to avoid socializing there is a strange feeling of fear of each other, difficult to come to grips with.

A worst case scenario is panic that results in hoarding supplies and selfishness in general. If anyone survives I want it to be me. In the lowest result, we end up barricaded in a house prepared to defend ourselves from others. These people are always looking for signs of some conspiracy leading to an apocalyptic end-of-the world situation where only the few (including them of course) will survive, through their ability to see the things that blind the general herd.

Handshakes are important to me. I appreciate brief eye contact and a handshake as an acknowledgment of each other, so it is weird for me to avoid all handshakes and try to keep a safe distance. Recently at the sawmill a guy showed up to buy some boards and there was an awkward circling, each of us unsure of what the other was comfortable with.

Toilet paper has become an issue in our house. We do not carry large inventories of paper products or other essentials. We go to Costco every four to six weeks and buy what we need locally in the interim. So now we were out of TP and none of the stores had it on the shelves. We could make do without, but it was inconvenient to say the least, so we joined the shopping frenzy. One day I was in the local grocery store, so I circled through the paper products aisle. There was one package of toilet paper left on the shelf. A woman approached from the other direction, and I was embarrassed to take it in front of her so I just walked on by and sure enough, she took it. Later, I had to take a transmission to a repair shop so I went to Costco. They open at 10:00, and when I got there at 9:55, carts were already coming out the door heavy with toilet paper and paper towels. I got a cart and joined the flow of people toward the back of the store. As I approached the paper products aisle, the mob funneled down to a solid line of carts and people. When I rounded the corner and was able to see down the aisle itself,  Costco personnel were distributing the coveted cases, one per cart. With a hunted feeling I stayed in place and received my ration of the essential. A few minutes later they were sold out.

It is hard to believe individualistic America would comply with government mandates limiting our personal freedoms. The last time rationing happened on a large scale was in World War II. We are in a largely unprecedented situation.

I feel very thankful to live in rural Idaho where the effects of the pandemic are less than in the more populous places. I wish for more ways to help those who lost their jobs and are stranded in a city, scared of everything. Hopefully, I am sensitive to local needs where I can help.

The best case scenario? A sense of solidarity in the face of an unseen enemy, producing kindness and helpfulness. Group cooperation for the sake of the larger good. There is a lot of this happening, and it gives me hope for our country, and the world. As Christians, we have an opportunity to show strength, calmness, and respect for the concerns of others, without acting in selfish, fearful ways. Hopefully, this emotion will outlive the pandemic and keep making a difference in the future.

Another possibility for good out of isolation is that we find ourselves as individuals, less dependent on others for our energy and fulfillment. Sometimes I wonder if our frenetic social pace can get in the way of internal strength and personal rapport with God. If I am not secure and happy in myself I don’t have much to give to anyone else.

Maybe we can find more individual strength in this forced semi-isolation and be stronger as a unit once seventy-two inches decreases to handshakes.