Fear and Baking in Pandemic
“To try to be brave is to be brave.”
George MacDonald
The headlines throughout this past week were hard on my heart. The next viral storm has arrived sooner than expected. Even in the last 24 hours, our local situation has begun to move in the wrong direction. As I said last week, it feels too much like those fretful early days in March again.
The return to more anxious times has me thinking about fear and bravery a lot. It also sent me to the kitchen to bake pumpkin oatmeal muffins.
More on that later.
Our collective pandemic trauma has enabled a rift to open up between those who adhere to public health precautions (sometimes with a merciless vigilance) and those who shun them as attacks on personal liberty. We are all flopping about on an unhelpful black and white spectrum. Until we can better define our values and share a common goal, we will continue to move apart from one another, even work against one another. This is such a grievous thought.
But what about the muffins, you ask? I’m getting there.
“Except a creature be part coward it is not a compliment to say it is brave; it is merely a loose misapplication of the word. Consider the flea! Incomparably the bravest of all the creatures of God, if ignorance of fear were courage.”
I don’t think living a “normal” life right now is brave. I don’t think living in a hermetically sealed bubble is necessary. I reject the false choice. I think most of us know that we will need to apply different ethical choices to our various situations but that everyone needs to err on the side of prudence. Many of us understand that we need to watch the virus news like we watch the weather report and adjust our plans accordingly. I say many of us… but it’s not enough of us. That’s why the numbers are climbing again.
Sadly, this behavior is not new to human history. It’s not new to pandemic history. It’s the reason why the second wave of most pandemics have killed more people than the first.
So that’s why I needed to bake muffins.
The tension of these polarized positions is, well, a lot. Too much. Have you noticed it? Have you felt the tingling in your head, tightness across your neck and shoulders, or maybe a heaviness in your chest? Maybe you’ve realized you were taking shallow breaths, even holding your breath sometimes. Maybe you are clenching your hands or your jaw. Or maybe you feel a low, humming restlessness or irritability. These are the quieter symptoms of fear.
Today, more than in normal times, the behavior of others directly impacts how each of us can move about the world. We can’t control for any of that. There is no immediate resolution to the problems we face and so no immediate method to disperse the fear. It will continue to manifest in these physiological symptoms.
Fear is a natural, normal human experience but it was not meant to be a perpetual state in which we live. When it lingers, unresolved, that’s when it can start to cause the kind of damage that leads to trauma. That’s why sometimes, we just have to stop and make muffins. Or make muffins a running interjection in an overly self-aware blog post.
It helps to do something that is slow, intentional, that evokes feelings of comfort or care. We can make it a mini retreat, fill the house with nostalgic aromas, and eat something nourishing. We need to pick slow activities that stimulate our senses and occupy our mind. We need to rest.
I’m not going to tell you to avoid the news or reality right now. That’s not helpful advice and it’s not really practical for most of us either. You know when you need to put your phone down. I am going to suggest that whenever you are aware of those gnawing symptoms of fear that you stop and do something else until they subside. Make tea. Change rooms or tasks. Go outside. If it’s really bad, call a friend and talk about it or nothing at all.
Fear is not always loud and obvious, not always something we are aware of, but it can color our judgment. The most afraid among us may be acting the most cavalier. It’s no good to ignore our fear feelings. It’s best to simply mark the physical symptoms and then respond, comforting ourselves just as we might a fearful child or a pet.
You may end up with a lot of muffins before life returns to normal. That’s okay.
They freeze beautifully.
