The Tipping Point

The Fine Line...how long until we cross it?

As the saying goes, there's a fine line between _____ and _____.

You pick. Safety and control. Freedom and oppression. Genius and insanity, right and wrong. Staying well and losing our grip on reality.
When will we cross that fine line, when Enough simply becomes Too Much?

During this coronavirus lockdown, one of my only excursions is a long walk down an empty road. I hope that's allowed. It may not be. 

And while I walk, I tend to think, like Winnie-the-Pooh in his honey tree. Think, think, think. 

What I have been wondering lately is how long people will obey, stay home, not see family or friends, not even a sick mother or father, not take care of things that may be incredibly important to them. How long will the citizens obey? 

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not one of the naysayers; I do not delve into conspiracy theories or entertain insidious ideas about where the virus came from and what will become of humanity. 

I tend towards introversion, and never run out of ways to fill an hour. In fact I've barely watched Netflix yet....I'm saving that for when I am out of ideas. Or maybe I'm too distracted to focus on anything for more than 20 minutes - that might be it! 

So I should be okay for awhile. I'm not losing my mind, not yet. 

Usually, on the Saturday of Easter weekend, I'm waking up at either my in-law's or my parent's house. Or family is staying at my place and I'm in the middle of creating or cleaning up an enormous waffle, ice cream and strawberries breakfast, picking at bits of bacon left in the pan, thinking about the calories I may accrue with the ham or turkey dinner coming tomorrow and wondering if I'm too old to buy a chocolate Easter bunny, or if anyone will notice if I take a handful of mini-eggs out to the patio just now, with my coffee. 

The fine line is that narrow place where something changes into something else, where the balance shifts. 

I sense a tension and restlessness in the air, growing like the signs of Spring among the resigned stoicism and meek compliance of Canadians, obedient to what has been asked of us. We are responsible, we will hold up our end of the bargain. We understand that our staying home helps others, and is a good example to those who might be on the edge of making different decisions. The vulnerable must be protected, the sick cared for, and the carers lauded and kept safe. Yes, we understand.

But at what point does people's mental health take precedence over their physical health? I think of many elderly people, lonely at home, their primary source of joy in grandchildren or family visits taken away. I think of families who know they have limited time left with loved ones, and see the sand swiftly flowing out of the hourglass. 

Young people whose entire life is wrapped up in their friends, feeling depressed and desperate as time freezes but their inner world continues. People whose love language is physical touch not being hugged for weeks or months.  Or even the cumulative apprehension and mild boredom of the general population.

At some point that thin line will be crossed, and acceptance will tip, like a balance scale, into resistance. 

It is like when a mouse, or a large ugly spider, or even a more dangerous pest like a scorpion is discovered in a room. Perhaps the homeowner jumps up on a chair, or retreats to the bed or the far corner. They stay still - watching and waiting, at the ready! Adrenaline races and the fight or flight impulse ensures survival. Eventually, as time passes, the frozen muscles relax, and the person begins to think about moving around a bit, even getting rid of the pest. Perhaps it isn't all that dangerous. Maybe they can kill it with a shoe, or tiptoe out and get the farm cat (in the case of the mouse). At any rate, they aren't going to stay forever perched on the edge of a desk awaiting their fate. No. Other options will be weighed.

The lockdown situation is far easier for those living in rural areas. They might not even notice the pinch. They have fields to go out in, maybe atv's to drive or long stretches of gravel road to wander. Someone in an apartment building who cannot even go into their hallway or elevator without feeling compromised is having a much different experience. My heart goes out to those in crowded places, whose anxiety must be overwhelming. 

I could be totally wrong about this, but I think within the next two weeks we will start to see a push back from people. They can't arrest us all, that's for sure. We all have common sense and know how to stay away from others, so it isn't like we are going to link arms en masse in the street and sing Kumbaya or clamour for malls to open. We have to give people some credit for having common sense. There is a strong independence and pioneer spirit among Canadians, as well as politeness and respect. 

At some point the fine line between inertia and restlessness, fear and risk, compliance and curiosity will blur and become harder to see. I have utmost respect for health care workers, the sick and vulnerable and our essential workers. I also have respect for the rule of law. 

But I do know human nature, and I wonder how long we will pace behind an invisible fence, when those we love and the essence of life itself is on the other side. 

For what is living?

 Is it only keeping oneself from harm, or even keeping others safe? At what point will our collective mental state take precedence over these physical dangers? What of the trauma caused by a daughter not able to say goodbye to a father, or a couple married for 60 years, unable to share their last days? Is this not also dangerous?

I am not sure of the answers, but the questions continue to arrive. 

For now I sit in my kitchen and watch the passage of the sun trace a bright arc across the window, 

a sun that seems freer now than I,

though it follows the same path
since the beginning of Time.