How to Find a Little Grace Amidst the Pandemic

I yelled at an old man in a wheelchair today.

I had just come around the corner. He was just in front in front of me. His way was blocked by a young Asian woman who was walking slower than his electric wheelchair. He shouted, “Get out of the way!”

This alone irritated me. She couldn’t see him. There was nothing offensive in her walking down the street. She turned and shied back with a cringe. As he accelerated forward, he turned and added, “Go home! Go the fuck home! Get the fuck out of my way. Fucking Chinks, this is all your fault!”

There is almost nothing in this world I hate more than getting angry.

In that moment there was nothing to stand in the way of the thunderous rage that swept through me. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Social distance meant nothing as I stepped between him and the now horrified young lady.

Those of you who know me might imagine, though you’ve likely never seen it, that I am not a pretty sight enraged. Six foot five, all the confidence and poise instilled by years of boxing, fencing, and wrestling have never left me. The old man looked up, and the fear in his piggy little eyes turned into words, “Fuck you! Get away!” he shouted, spittle flying from his swollen lips.

Fight immediately turned into flight. He accelerated away. I took three steps after him. But the fear in his fat face, the little eyes wide, struck to the heart of me.

There is nothing in this world I hate more than making people afraid.

The anger fell away, replaced not with guilt or compassion, as in that moment I did not care what demons drove his outburst. But I knew that fear wasn’t the answer. He was already afraid. Afraid of what, I still don’t care, but I there was nothing I could do in that moment to remove it. I went from shouting to projecting, my professional speakers voice pitched to follow him as far as he cared to flee. “Whatever you’re afraid of, it isn’t her. Go home and think about that.”

He sputtered incoherent epithets at me and kept rolling.

 I added, “We’re all in this together…” My voice tailed off as I realized how untrue that was for him. He was alone, afraid, and I reasonably expect will be if he cannot find a little peace before he dies he will be alone for the rest of life.

“It’s OK… Thank you.”

The young woman was still there. She was standing back, and clearly a little nervous. How could I blame her? “It’s not OK. I am sorry.” Sorry for the old man’s behaviour, and mine. We parted ways, but in that moment it became clear to me. Fear, anger, anxiety at our indefinite isolation. The pandemic will ruthlessly eat away at our darkest emotions if we are not vigilant, reflective in the face of all the things we feel in the deepest and most atavistic parts of our minds.

Reflect now.

Take a moment to reflect or meditate on how you feel right now, as I have been. My anger did not serve the young lady, the old man, or me. His behaviour was repulsive; but borne of fear and ignorance. Terrifying him further did nothing to reduce the sad fact that there are people who blame their neighbours for this awful disease and the impact it has had on us. Instead, we should look inside ourselves, and inspect our feelings:

Afraid?

This is going to hurt, no matter what we do. Now imagine how it must be to be a health care professional whose sense of duty requires her to take to the front lines, and care for those who have been afflicted. What might you do to help her and her colleagues who will be there for you no matter what happens? Sew a mask? Donate blood?

Angry?

Perhaps you’ve lost your job, your business, or a big deal? Its already happened. You’re still alive, healthy. What might you do to prepare for something new when this is all over? Take a free course. Read a book. Plan your next enterprise…

Anxious?

Home alone? Finding being at close quarters with your partner or family a strain? That is not going to change any time soon. Arrange to have a drink over video with an old friend. Play a game even if you’re not in the mood. Re-watch an old movie for family night even if you’re less than inclined. Do something to make it work because we won’t have any other options for the foreseeable future.

There is grace to be found if your look for it.

We will all feel these things sooner or later, if we aren’t already.  but each of us can choose to react to them. Much as I could have asked my self what good my outburst would do, we can all ask ourselves this question when we feel the darkness creeping in.

What might I do to make this better?

I’m off to book an appointment to donate blood, which is desperately needed. How about you?