Overthinking Respect

When I was working at Pizza Hut, I had a lot of customers come in who were of the Hindu faith.  Although not required, a majority of the Hindus don't eat meat.  They believe in the sanctity of life for every creature.  These customers always emphasized that there should be no meat on their pizza.  On the rare occasion that a piece bacon somehow made its way in with the onions, these customers would ask for a remake.  They would not eat something that even touched a piece of meat.  

As irritating as this was, I just had to remind myself that I needed to respect these customers' beliefs.  I didn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.  And I certainly didn't want to make anyone feel like they had just committed a sin.

I eat meat.  Mostly chicken.  I don't believe that anything bad will happen if I consume that tiny piece of bacon hidden among the onions.  But the world doesn't revolve around me.  I do my best to remember the needs and concerns of the people around me.

Which brings me to wearing masks.  I hate having to wear a mask.  I hate breathing in the warm, moist air my mask provides.  And I hate trying to readjust my glasses every few minutes so they don't fog up.  But I am one of the many people who believes that wearing a mask can protect you and those around you.

I have some friends who believe they don't need to wear masks.  They think the Coronavirus is no worse than the flu.  I can't say if they're right or wrong.  I'm no doctor or scientist.  What I can say is that we need to respect the choices of the people around us.  Like me, many people in the country believe that wearing a mask can protect themselves and the people around them.  If you don't want to wear a mask for yourself, please at least wear a mask for everyone around you.  You can protest all you want.  You can go mask free when you are around others who feel the same as you do.  But if you need to go pick up a gallon of milk, put a mask on.  

During these crazy times, I can't think of anything more unkind than not wearing a mask in public.  Sure, you're showing that you don't believe wearing them changes anything.  But, perhaps unintentionally, you're also showing that you don't care about the people around you.  The world does not revolve around you.

I just want you to think about this.  Would you serve a vegetarian meat?  No, that's just rude.  Why is wearing a mask any different?

Fiery Serpents 2020

Remember that one time that God sent fiery serpents among the children of Israel to get them to behave?  I don't, personally, but I do remember reading about it in the Old Testament.  Those who were bitten were offered a cure.  All they had to do was look at a brass serpent that Moses lifted up.  That small, simple act of faith in God cured many people.  But there were many others who suffered and died because they thought the cure was too simple to actually work.  They lacked the faith they needed to be healed.
We have a new fiery serpent among us today in the form of the Coronavirus.  While I'll admit that staying in or around the house 24/7 is not at all a simple act, wearing masks out in public is.  I was surprised to see how many people on Facebook are complaining about tyranny and being told that they must wear masks in order to get groceries.  People don't like being forced to do things.
The masks, in this case, are the brass serpent.  Wearing a mask in public, though a minor annoyance, is a simple act to protect yourself and others around you.  Whether you believe in the Coronavirus or not, wearing a mask is something simple you can do without complaining.
The main difference between Moses's brass serpent and today's brass serpent is the lack of prophetic authority.  By looking at the brass serpent Moses lifted up, you were showing faith in God through his prophet.  It's easier to question today's Moseses (government leaders, doctors, etc.) because people have so many differing opinions on said authorities.  Instead of trying to decide who to listen to, maybe you should decide for yourself.  Put yourself in other peoples' shoes.  Just because you don't believe masks will work doesn't mean they won't.  The people around you wearing masks seem to think they work, and they're wearing them for your protection, as well as their own.
The moral of the story is to think about what is being asked of you.  If it's something simple and harmless, with the best of intentions, just go with.  Wear the mask.  Look up at the brass serpent.

Isolation: A Short Story

A long time ago, my name was used to signify royalty.  Honor.  Protection.

Now it brings only fear.

I'll be forever grateful to the man who brought me here, to this cabin in the woods.  No one around for me to harm.  

I'm also sorry that he had to get hurt to help me.

I've been here for three weeks now.  Alone.  I gave up watching television, seeing my name in the headlines.  The number of people I've hurt.  I stay on the music stations, letting the beats and rhythms drown my thoughts.

Sleeping is difficult.  I lay awake most nights trying and failing to not think about my past.  I spent my whole life reaching out for someone to love me.  But among all the people I've encountered, I knew I was alone.  I knew I would always be alone.

So I ran.

I was fortunate to find this cabin.  All the furniture was covered in a thick layer of dust.  The kitchen was almost empty.  I've had to ration my meals.  I was thrilled when I found the cable box still worked.

I think I've made the best of things.  I'm feeling lighter than I have in a long time.  Music drowning my loneliness.  A game of solitaire on the table.  Even the bookshelf is still stocked with some reading material.  I'm keeping busy, distracting myself.  

I found seeds in one of the kitchen pantries.  A plot of soil in the back yard.  On sunny days, I go out and tend to my little garden.  The beans sprouted quickly.

Everything is fine.  I am fine.

I head back inside, my sprouts freshly watered, glistening in the sun.  A song comes on that I love.  The perfect amount of bass.  I turn it up, begin to dance.  I live for moments like this, where I can be free to be me.  Enjoy the music.  Enjoy life.  I close my eyes as I dance.

I don't see the headlights.  I don't hear the voices, the children's excited laughter.  I open my eyes in time to see the door handle turn.  I freeze, feeling a fear I haven't felt in days.  My chest tightens.  I think of the last people I saw.  The last people I hurt.  In Wuhan.  Milan.  Madrid.  New York.  I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.

I see a face, the confusion in the eyes.

The intake of breath.

I'm sorry.  West Virginia, I'm so sorry.