Despite the current chaos, there has been much inspirational talk about how we will get through this pandemic. It’s the ever-too-chipper “We are all in this together”-speak. It’s aiming to be earnest and sometimes comforting and even fairly true. We will “get through this,” just as everything is something that must be “gotten through,” one way or another. Even with the loss of numerous lives, there will be another side of this crisis. It will be “gotten to,” but only by some, in some way, for some purpose, if perhaps only to disappear back into another surge of this virus.
But let’s be truthful: There is no return to the life we knew before. We won’t simply “get through this” and land back where everything left off. We will have to press start to a whole new game. It will take some heroic action to prepare to learn the rules at that point, if there will even be any. That will take a hard choice and a lot of work.
My own sadness ebbs and flows. I envy those who are more positive and able to rest in the inspiration of each new day. They may be delusional, but they seem to have hope. I envy the faithful, the helpers, the heroes. I envy the ways in which people can seek purpose and renewal while our world continues to cripple itself. And it is crippling itself fast and furiously. People stridently rebel against social distancing guidelines, parade to public spaces as though nothing has changed, and ignore good habits that respect the health of others. On my darkest days, I want to give up and believe that we deserve ever horror that is heading for us. Despite my desire to be a hero, I can feel a villainy fueling my anger and despair. (What follows is a snapshot of that; consider yourself warned.)
To witness humans at their worst -- hoarding food and household goods, ignoring government warnings about safe practices, claiming that the virus is a hoax, wishing for the deaths of others, or even just whining about how hard it is to stay in their safe, warm homes – it’s all enough to make me wonder why we are worth saving at all. Why strive to motivate humans to be good or decent people if it’s never going to be possible anyway? If we cannot make people follow rules that will save lives, then maybe all the guns should just keep coming freely. Maybe we should just all be able to smoke, drink, and self-medicate with anything we want. If we don’t really care about life – and if we only like to pretend that we care -- then what garbage we really are. None of us then truly care for a greater good or a sense of duty to others. It’s all a ruse. We are in it for ourselves and ourselves alone. In this way, we have always been socially distancing, disconnecting ourselves from others so we can simply watch out for number one.
But as I said, this is where my mind goes on the darkest days. And I know that the darkest days are also the most distorted ones.
Still, on these days, I have a true understanding of super villains. I can see why we have such amazing “big bads” in pop culture and why we actually love them. If I had my own origin story as a villain, then this glimpse into human nature during the pandemic would be its catalyst. It seems that most of our comic book villains emerge from severe disillusionment with or disconnection from humanity. They may be bullied, abused, punished (with or without cause), or ensnared by human deception. They may be directly injured as a result of human greed or malice. Whatever the case, the most intriguing villains reflect our own worst sins as a species.
It’s much harder to be a hero. It is so much harder to look on all the crap that humans dish out and decide you are still going to care for them. To choose to be the hero, you must choose to love others, and that is never the easiest choice. No matter what our culture makes us think, loving others and connecting to others is always the harder option.
In the movie Wonder Woman, there’s a key scene where Diana is savagely tempted by Ares to destroy humans, given their evident corruption. She considers it. She should, right? Countless superheroes are consistently maligned by the very humans they seek to help – they are distrusted and protested. Why not kill them? Still, a real hero loves and helps. Diana chooses love, despite all her grief and rage, and she chooses to help humankind. I ain’t Wonder Woman, obviously, but I’d like to hope that I could make that choice, that I can make that choice
On my better days, when I look around and focus, I do see the people who are here helping, for better or worse. They are trying to share resources with neighbors, make masks, and check on others. They are sharing humor and good cheer. There are heroic humans who are making that choice to do the right thing, despite so many who are not. We can’t save everyone, maybe not even ourselves, but we can choose love regardless.
So, maybe I will and can choose love and choose humans yet. I will at least, for now, choose my better days, and not become my darkest.
