The Cautious

Risk Management

Despite some flights of bravado I also have looming anxiety. The anxiety I’ve had all my life. I have explained it away as having internalized my mother’s nervous fatalism. Less easy to explain is how I mysteriously manage to break away from it every now and then. It seems to have a bit to do with the occasional times my self-consciousness takes a rest and I feel in control of my environment. This can often be found in solitude, albeit also at the cost of boredom. The pandemic has given me some opportunities to explore further in that solitude is more acceptable now, thus alleviating the self-consciousness.

So it’s given me an outlet to have more solitude while outsiders are just seeing it as responsible behavior rather than worried that I am depressed and lonely (or creepy) and wanting to help me. Then, all I have to contend with is boredom and dullness. But I’ve actually found my activities--bike riding, walking, reading, writing, playing guitar, even household maintenance--have ticked upward. Also the days pass at a tolerable clip and managing mental health is not any more difficult. In fact, prayers of supplication have noticeably become less necessary. Shouldn’t this be good?

I’ve joked that the pandemic has had little effect on my day to day routine. And it’s really not a joke. But whereas it may come across as self-deprecating humor, secretly it feels that the effect has been good. It’s given me an “out” for things that can bring on stress. And even if they are what I would list as things I enjoy or get something out of--Great Decisions, docent guide, film festival, bike tour event--forfeiting them generally doesn’t cause any gloom and alternatives do present themselves. And more so, it gets me out of things that really would stress me out. Like flying to Las Vegas to attend my son’s wedding.

Generally I’ve gotten my local social crowd down to people who I feel comfortable with, in that they either share my risk assessment and behavior or at least are respectful of it. In truth, I’m sure my son is respectful as well. But he inhabits a different world than me. It’s a perfectly good world. But my not being in it very often, I find myself uncomfortable with others who may inhabit it. And that’s also had the effect of evaluating more truthfully my relationship with him and others in different bubbles.

I’m wondering if a “Brer Rabbit and the Briar Patch” syndrome has gotten me instead of the virus. If I’m privately savoring a time where I can cloak my solitude in normality, better evaluate who’s association I really value and discover activities I really enjoy, a question arises: What happens when the pandemic is contained and I have to come out of the briar patch?

More: Planning for the Post-Pandemic

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