The Coronavirus is Trump’s Fault. And Yours Too.
Let me start off by saying that coronavirus is NOT Trump’s fault (not exactly), and it’s not yours either. But at the very least, we are co-creating a world where a scourge like this has become inevitable and sadly poetic. In all truth, we’ve lost our way. And we’ve been sent a blessing disguised as a curse to help us get back on the path.
I’ll admit that the title of this article is a bit disingenuous, but hey, my hands are tied here. I had to get your attention somehow. We’re all cooperating with a system that is constantly stealing our attention away via infinite feeds and the digital equivalent of fireworks displays, usually to sell us something. And that is why Trump is relevant here.
The coronavirus is not Trump’s fault, but he is the national symbol of greed going unchecked. The prevailing narrative for those who support him and defend his misdeeds, is the same as any narrative supporting tyranny throughout the ages: “He’s good for the economy and makes me feel safer in a world full of threats.” Our president has perpetuated a falsely productive economy. He has presented the illusion of safety by convincing Americans that we are superior or that we can maintain safety by keeping out those who would harm us. This house of cards was destined to fall.
Don’t mistake my academic analysis for callousness. I don’t want people to suffer, or to die before their time. I am not wringing my hands with glee here. At the same time, I can see that this is nature’s way for the system to self-correct. For those of us able to zoom out and examine the relatively unchecked growth of our species, and the impact we are having on this planet, diseases provide a necessary service.
We’re doing it wrong
Coronavirus is real and people are certainly dying. If you are reading this, and you or someone you know are suffering or have succumbed to the disease, please know that my heart is with you and yours. What I write here is primarily for those of us who will not know the anguish of illness or the loss of loved ones, but suffer only to the extent that we let our imaginations run wild with the fears of that unlikely event. For most, at least as it now stands, the real risk is an economic one as evidenced by the stock market debacle that took place on Monday, March 9th. Economics are invisible. They are the byproduct of human emotion. When consumers are scared, the markets suffer and therein lies our power to affect the change that we so desparately need.
In this world we are distracted by endless bullshit. We accept the idiotic points of view disseminated via brief statements on myriad social media platforms by people whose qualifications are neither expertise based on years of study or deep introspection, but rather magical ascension up the rungs of credibility because of artistic talents or athletic prowess, (inherited) wealth, physical beauty, or some combination of both.
We consume mass-produced goods we don’t need, ordered via a robot that we invite into our homes, amused by their novelty and seemingly intelligent assistance. We order products that are delivered within a day, convenience and thrift turning our eyes away from the impact that these services have on the environment, on mistreated minimum wage employees, or on a crumbling society where the individual is encouraged to become more and more insular and in-person commerce fades away faster than the daily deal.
For some perspective on our current predicament, I’ll borrow the words of Tom Robbins, written in Half Asleep In Frog Pajamas, a novel that takes place during a fictional stock-market crash in the 1990s:
“The Lie of progress. The lie of unlimited expansion. The lie of ‘grow or perish.’ Listen. We built ourselves a fine commercial bonfire, but then instead of basking in its warmth, toasting marshmallows over it, and reading the classics by its light, we became obsessed with making it bigger and hotter, bigger and hotter, until if the flames didn’t leap higher from one quarter to the next, it was case for great worry and dissatisfaction…if you keep feeding and feeding and feeding a bonfire, sooner or later you burn up all the fuel and the fire goes cold; or else the fire gets too huge to manage and eventually engulfs the countryside and chars its inhabitants. Nature has always set limits on growth; limits on the physical size of individual species, limits on the size of populations. Did we really believe capitalism was exempt from the laws of nature? Did we really confuse endless consumption with endless progress?”
Systems can’t just keep growing unchecked. Our government adjusts the “free market” adding trillions to our debt so that the illusion of prosperity can continue. Our politicians do this to maintain power and horde even more wealth. Over time, opportunistic millionaires become multi-millionaires or billionaires and their table-scraps trickle down to be caught in the nets of the lower rungs, where you and I dwell. When the table is full, there are more scraps for everyone but that’s no way to live, especially when the banquet exacts a heavy toll on the planet and on our souls. Who wants to be shot while waiting in line for a fucking chicken sandwich, when we were meant for so much more?
Feeling empty inside? Why meditate or learn something or contribute to society when we can just order that useless piece of shit on Amazon (free returns!), or buy any number of things in their non-biodegradable packaging and then throw them out thinking that problem will just take care of itself—if we consider that any problem exists at all.
I hate to say it, but what we desperately need right now are things like coronavirus, things that stop us in our tracks and disrupt a way of living that is completely meaningless. Maybe when we are huddled together twiddling our thumbs, hoping that we won’t be killed by something we can’t even see, our focus will shift to what really matters; where things come from, where they end up when we dispose of them, how we are impacting the planet, how we are treating others, and the discovery of our highest purpose while we are here. (Mine is to test the limits of my moral superiority via the written word.)
Batshit crazy
It has often been said that we are never given the disease without first being given the cure. In this instance disease and cure are one and the same.
Evidence suggests that bats spread the coronavirus to humans, a theory that I find replete with meaning. Let’s look at die edle fledermaus for a moment shall we? These magical creatures are the only of our mammalian cousins to transcend the limits of terrestrial living and take to the skies with sustained flight. We could learn a thing or two from the noble bat.
Lesson 1: Take but also give.
Bats are consumers of course, but they also provide the very generous services of seed dispersal, pollination, and insect consumption. They make our world better. And yes, they carry rabies and are the source of several coronaviruses, but without them, we would live in a world with very limited fruit and an overabundance of bugs.
Lesson 2: Slow down.
In torpor, a state of decreased activity where the bat’s body temperature and metabolism decreases dramatically, they consume less and barely travel. If fear has us travel less and stay home, then this is an opportunity to slow down. We can contract completely around fear, buying gallons of hand sanitizer as if it were holy water, but rather to let it guide us inward with intospection.
Lesson 3: Listen.
Justice is blind, and while bats may not be exactly that (vision is poor but not absent), they have adapted the magnificent ability of echolocation, finding their way via call and response. Coronavirus is also blind. Neither good nor evil, it is just an emergent property of life on this planet at this time. What is meaningful is how we respond. People tend to contract even more around possessions and “their” family’s safety during times like these which is why markets crash so precipitously. Will we let fear control or look at the facts, assess the risks logically, and behave in a way that cares for everyone around us?
Lesson 4: Fly!
Perhaps the greatest lesson is that of flight. At some point in its evolutionary history, a bat-like creature with rudimentary wings boldy leapt from the tree and landed on one nearby, gaining access to fruit and a worthy mate. Might not our species, still in its adolescence be willing to take a similar leap?
We seem obsessed with our limitations and give our power away repeatedly to those who are meant to represent our interests in governance, but who seemingly never do. What is available to each and every one of us every day is self-awareness and the ability to cast off the false cloak of victimhood to stand naked and undefended in our personal power.
I envision a better world on the other side of this. One where businesses, forced to let their employees work remotely, learn to develop trusting relationships. One where we’ll say to ourselves, let me make deeper connections to my family and to my community. One where we confront fear, and demand more of our leaders and ourselves.
In my brazen opinion, this is just what we need to knock us out of our stupor. What’s worse, a deadly virus quickly destroying a significant portion of the world’s population, or humanity dying a slow death of binging on entertainment or choking on the over-consumption of goods brought to our door-step, our eyes glazed blind to the consequences?
Now is the time for generosity and slowing down. Now is the time to examine our relationship to fear, to money, and to each other. And if I’m wrong, at least we will have made this country and this world a better place.
