The Point Is Not Longevity

Went to a covid vaccination site yesterday and have to say, I wasn’t really looking forward to it. I’m not an anti-vaxxer or anything, but living with a unique form of mast cell disease really gives you pause when introducing anything new into your body; you never know how your body’s going to react. But my wife wanted me to get the shot, and to be honest, when weighing anaphylactic death versus having to defend my position for the next couple of months, I took the option that would be easier to live with. I got the shot.

After waiting my fifteen minutes, all was good and we left. Hopefully the worst I can get now are the covid-like symptoms a lot of people feel after getting the vaccine, which I’m not too worried about. My family and I already had covid a few months ago, so I know what to expect there. We were among the lucky ones who didn’t have it too badly. For me it felt like the flu for a few days, causing a fever and a lot of aches and pains in my knees. Not a big deal. The only problem was that I couldn’t take any meds for the pain because of this stupid mast cell disorder.

Since I already had covid, I wasn’t too concerned about getting the vaccine, but no matter. I checked the box. Perhaps I’m a little ambivalent about it for my own needs, but I know getting the vaccine has been such an enormous relief to so many, and I’m very grateful that they received it. I know it will take a long time for many to feel some semblance of normalcy again, but at least this is a start. So many lives desperately need a break. It’s been a long, long battle.

And yet, how extraordinary is it that some fifteen months after the shit hit the fan, we have vaccines to combat the virus? It’s amazing. I’m blown away by how far human achievement has come. Then again, I still marvel at the fact that I can write this blog post on a smartphone. But really, my kids were sent home last March for covid and just thirteen months later I’m given a vaccine to combat it? That’s remarkable. Somehow it doesn’t feel like we are in awe enough about this. Perhaps our fears have hijacked our ability to have rational expectations.

This past weekend a friend and I were discussing the expansiveness of American fear and how wild things seem to have gotten. The fear factor has really gotten out of control. Some people we know are still scared to get covid, even though they have been vaccinated. Some people who have already gotten covid are terrified to get it again because they’ve heard the variants could be much, much worse. Some people are terrified that the vaccine is going to change their DNA. Some fear offending someone by saying anything at all. Some fear that their liberties are going to get taken away. Nobody’s happy and who can blame them with 24-hour news channels preying on their fears?

Have you watched the news lately? It’s disgusting. It’s all sensationalized fearmongering, regardless of what political lens you want to digest. Some news outlets want you to be terrified to get the virus; some want you to be terrified to get the vaccine. Everybody is pointing the finger at somebody and everybody is angry, hating on each other. I know it may feel wrong to celebrate when so many have lost so much, but we need to celebrate, because what humanity has achieved in such a short time is miraculous. We all need to take a deep breath and appreciate…people.

One of the things the state of New Hampshire told my wife and I after we had covid was that we were technically “immune” for 90 days. They’re saying the same thing after you get the vaccine. 90 days. But many people are acting like there is a huge difference. I remember after having covid, a lot of people would take a step back from me as if I was still contagious a month after having it. No, no, I’d say, I’m immune. But nobody seemed to believe it. Yet with the vaccine, many are acting as if they are permanently immune the day they get the shot, even though we know immunity probably won’t kick in for a few weeks. Logic is totally out of whack. It’s worrisome. Feels a little like the Sneetches out there, and this is where I see trouble.

I’m worried that some will get through this pandemic, get vaccinated, and feel that they “beat covid” by being hyper-vigilant. I’m worried that they will feel justified in their need to self-protect and in doing so, lose their empathy for others. I’m worried that they will think they have a better grip on life than those who had covid. I’m also worried that as new variants pop up, they will continue to keep people at arm’s length because they are watching the news like hawks, and feel that after 90 days from their vaccination date they will have lost their immunity. Fears like this will keep people locked up in their homes as they continue to outsmart covid. I worry that people will be afraid to really live again. To extend themselves to others again.

Look, I’m not a doctor and you can troll me if you think I’m wrong, but chances are pretty much 100% you’re going to get covid at some point in your lifetime. Like the flu or cold viruses, covid is here to stay. Once you step outside your door and see people again, you’re going to bump into covid too. With the vaccine, you might not even feel anything. Maybe you will. Maybe one of the variants will get you. Maybe it will really take you down or worse. That can happen with the flu too. Yes, covid is more severe than the flu, but there are a number of other viruses you have been exposed to in your life that could have killed you as well. You’ve been taking risks your whole life without much thought. You could also die in a car accident, or in a plane crash, or from cleaning up mouse poop, or from a hundred other things. That’s just life.

But it feels like in the American ideal, we’ve forgotten that this is ok. It feels like we were hoping we could have it all, and that includes being able to live a hundred years. I know I’m guilty of that. I’ve dreamt about leading a long life, and often joke with my kids that I’m going to be around for at least 120 years (even though my recent history would suggest 50 is a more likely finish line.) But a long life having accomplished all of my dreams isn’t about much more than myself, and what’s the point of that? Who cares?

At the end of our lives, the likelihood that we will be remembered is infinitesimally small. All of us worrying about achieving some sort of immortality have totally missed the point. Your life is not meant to contribute to your own immortality – it’s meant to contribute to the immortality of humankind. It’s meant to prop up the spirit of the people around you so that humanity has a better chance of giving its love and spirit to the next batch of humans. Your immortality is not achieved in the singular recognition of your name, your accomplishments and longevity, but in the transmission of your spirit to your fellow man. If your spirit is generous and open, you may be lucky enough to see that spirit reflected back to you someday, and can take solace that while your name may not ever be remembered, your spirit may be.

But you’re not here to bear witness to your impact either. You’re here to give your life and give it freely. You already do this for so many of your loved ones, this isn’t a stretch. But the rest of the world needs you too. People need the gift of you so that the collective human spirit can improve, grow stronger, and accomplish amazing things together – like creating a covid vaccine in a year’s time. Of greater importance though: people need you to share a laugh with and get comfort from knowing that they are not alone. You need people too. If you shutter yourself away, hoping to hang on to extra time, you are not only depriving others the gift of you, you are depriving yourself the gift of others.

If you are afraid about where we go from here, I feel you. I am not insensitive to the fears of death. Over the last few years I’ve faced a medical battle that gave me some real scares, and I honestly didn’t think I’d be here today. But upon reflection, I let the fear of death steal some valuable time from me and my family. I worried about what I was going to lose and that I hadn’t done all that I hoped to do. While I was busy worrying, I took my eyes off what was truly important: loving my family and friends. From loving everyone, really.

When I was able to knock myself in the head and get over the fact that I had been near the brink, I discovered one beautiful, and ironically liberating truth: your life is not your own. It belongs to your spouse and your children and your parents. It belongs to your siblings and your friends. It belongs to every person you interact with because they are the ones who receive your presence. They’re the ones who get the visual of your being. You are, therefore, a gift for others, and your presence leaves tiny indelible marks that perpetuate themselves in ways you will never get to witness. Hopefully the marks are good ones.

As we move forward, it’s important to remember that the vaccine isn’t the finish line. The real work is now just beginning. Mental health issues were already spiking before the pandemic and have become exponentially more pronounced as a result of covid. Children and adults alike are combating a great deal of anxiety. Covid has shown a light on the fears that were laying just beneath the surface, causing them to explode in a million different directions. I hope going forward your fears are alleviated. I hope you get to fully appreciate what you have already gotten to live, accept the risks of the future, and don’t turn inwards hoping to hold onto something that never really belonged to you alone. Everybody needs you and you need them too.