We no longer live out on the stage of what was a normal life; we are not on vacation in some iconic location; we are not on our way anywhere familiar. We are instead existing at home, living in our minds, traveling beyond the shadows of who we were. On the other side of those former persons that were us, of the people who saw the world through the eyes of “things are the way they are,” are different people who cannot take for granted that those “things” will stay the way they were. The waves of the ocean no longer crash upon the shore we knew but, instead, roll in towards senses hungry to feast on such rarities momentarily forbidden.

Of course, it’s always been this way, but we didn’t want the brevity of our experiences and time on Earth to stand in front of our consciousness, flailing the arms of certain death that this is all temporary. We trick ourselves and reassure our inner dialog that we can do this or that tomorrow, next week, next year, or simply, someday. We remain largely unaware that as the day passes, the shadow of our life expectancy grows shorter. Early in the morning, our shadows stretch far, and likewise, early in our lives, the horizon is difficult to see, while comprehending it may forever elude some. What are we supposed to do with an infinite horizon where time has no meaning?

Disappearing from our normal lives in this state of self-isolation, threatened by the hostility of an invisible stalker called COVID-19, should awaken those who cannot see beyond their noses. Fear of the unknown and desire for the familiar have them waiting for a return to their routines. This has not become the opportunity to find new regard for the transient nature of life and the ephemeral, fleeting impressions brought to their senses by novelty. It is the control mechanism of the oppressor. It is the abusive father, the demanding teacher, the tyrant found in one’s boss. This though is a myopic view of the person who never learned of their own agency. They have mastered the role of the victim and have grown comfortable hiding in the margin of life, not emerging from fear.

Granted, there are those who are in dire need of counseling, continuing education, or financial assistance who simply must do what it takes in order to survive, but that, too, is a consequence of living in the moment of not understanding what’s ahead. The inability to have been prepared for life is the same as walking towards the cliff and hoping that the hand of God will be there to catch you before you fall into the void. If we can understand the folly of such a stupid act, how do we blind ourselves to the need to have life safety nets? The answer is relatively easy, even if assumptive: nobody really cares about those around them. In that sense, we are not holding one another’s hands and helping each other along.

Too many live behind masks even when they are not wearing ones of a physical nature. When I go shopping, I see many men obviously not comfortable wearing a surgical mask, and yet the masks they are wearing, as a consequence, speak more about them and their selfishness than simply being out shopping can portray. How well do these people really know themselves if they cannot empathize with those who are looking to live? Am I suggesting that those without masks are likely narcissistic, angry assholes? Yes.

The funny thing about my gross characterization is that I’ve often been called a narcissistic asshole myself because of my determination to get what I want. I don’t try to get things in life at the expense of others (though there are those who would call bullshit on that); then again, they want someone who will do for them what they fail to inspire themselves to do, so there’s that. Their masks are the ones of having lived under a shadow of isolation where love was something found in movies for women or was experienced as a good fuck, but still, their lives remained empty.

I’m taking inventory of things I might be taking for granted, though I thought I was fully appreciative of all that I stumbled upon. For example, Caroline and I were always pinching ourselves at our good fortune of being able to travel so much that we had the means. Maybe I didn’t quite understand how lucky I was to have eyes, ears, and other senses that are able to be present at places of beauty, historic importance, or some other element of grandeur. I knew that I had the characteristics of a person who wanted to explore, but I thought those were common. I’ve assumed that others, if they had the financial capability, would indulge themselves in a lifelong ambition to seek out knowledge and experience, but COVID-19 is showing me, or maybe to some degree reinforcing, the idea that those who want to remain in old habits have no interest in what the unknown has to offer.

It’s easy to know that Caroline and I on a desert island would need 60 rolls of toilet paper per year or that we eat about 200 pounds of onions between us over those same 365 days, so we can now plan accordingly before we’re shipwrecked. Yes, this has been gleaned over the past 44 days of self-isolation. As a matter of fact, seeing how COVID-19 might return later this year, this knowledge may prove helpful during the fall and winter. What’s not easy to know is how we are changing after hearing so many birds in our neighborhood or seeing so many lizards growing fat as the days grow warm. We could not have known how generous we’d feel to help others during this crisis or how mistrustful of those who are not aware of the space they are in. There’s almost no food waste in our lives right now and we are happy to be frequently making our own cereal and bread. We are happy to explore our hobbies and wish there was even more time in the day to explore the interests that feed our minds.

Once we are able again to venture out to other places we’ll be in our car and heading somewhere, likely to the Oregon coast. This next trip, though will be aware of what part of us we have to leave behind and of that part of us in self-isolation that was dormant as our new routines had us stuck in our immediate environment. I hope our senses will be flush with the symbiotic and profound awareness of awe that our real freedom is always there and is ever-present so long as we maintain intellectual forward motion. Our happiness seems premised on the idea that we can neither live in the shadows of hope nor behind the mask of fear and uncertainty. We cannot trade one form of self-isolation for the illusion of freedom found in another flavor of self-isolation. We must go forward and deeper within every day.