Cultivate Your Own Garden
Each team member in our company, thousands of us spread out across America, was just issued two reusable cloth masks with the logo printed tastefully on the left side. The color black is not my best, but no one consulted me, and the reason for the decision lies far above my pay grade. In the absence of more information, none of which was forthcoming, we have had to make up stories about why. My immediate thought (which I found shared by several others) was “They wouldn’t have made a substantial investment like this unless this was going to go on for a long stretch.” For some reason, at store level, we’re guessing it will be, at the very least, until the end of the year.
With no counsel given and no guidance, we’re all looking at an unknown amount of time ahead with no summit in sight, no port of call, no finish line, and no punch clock. Just day after mask-wearing day, sorting it out as best we can. The uncertainty is stressful and tiring and it’s an opportunity to practice making meaning, certainly, if we choose to.
It’s also a chance to add to my ever-growing list of items I can be judgmental about: racist assholes, obsessive cell phone users, second amendment “fanatics,” meat eaters, people who ride loud cycles in the riverfront park, non-recyclers (It’s trash day around here and I’ve already been doing it this morning), people not using the stairs at work (“No wonder you’re so fat”), people who don’t use humane mousetraps, Yankees fans and so many juicy others. Now I can add masks.
I get to think “Didn’t you learn any manners? It’s just common courtesy to protect others.” Or “Oh, I’ll bet you think all mask wearers are pussies and wouldn’t have thrown the tea in the harbor and told the British crown to go to hell.” Maybe you’re a “maskhole.”
Being told to wear masks may occur to some people like being told to wear seatbelts or motorcycle helmets. It’s my body, my life, don’t tell me what to do. That at least might be understandable, if not shared. Part of me longs to empathize, yet I really want to judge also. It feels so right and true and I get to imagine being on the right side of history.
When I’m running without one, I’m aware I might be judged by passing cars because I know I do it. “Hey,” I think to myself, in a defensive internal dialogue with drivers I don’t even know. “I wear a mask for eight hours at work. I have one in my pocket right now in case I run anywhere near someone else.” One thing we excel at, whatever our spiritual or political beliefs, is making up stories.
These are uncertain and parlous times, we all know that, and it is easy to make assumptions and turn other people into ogres and enemies. I was pondering “cultivate your own garden” from Candide, perhaps because my wife and I spend so much time in ours lately. I’ve often wondered, since first running into Voltaire in college, whether I fully understood the phrase in context, but I think its meaning is plain. After seeing all manner of religious intolerance and political oppression (sound familiar?) in his journeys, Candide decides that the best thing he could is to settle down, live peacefully with his neighbors, and produce something of value to others.
It’s not a call to bury your head in the sand, but it does sound a lot like “mind your own business,” rather than spending time judging others.
