When I was younger, I did more volunteer work. I appreciated being a part of something larger than myself and contributing to a modest solution to a larger problem. It gave me purpose as well as united me with a collective of people I would have never spent time with otherwise. Undoubtedly, with these volunteer events came one unescapable thing – a dreaded, boxy, and oftentimes ugly T-shirt. While I tried to be as selfless as possible for these opportunities, I always bristled at wearing the questionable uniform of such understated work. In misplaced individualism, I would do whatever I could to get out of wearing what I deemed as fashionably offensive to my identity. Sure, I could feed the underserved, run a service project, help kids, but asking me to wear a simple article of clothing seemed like it leaped over the line of my otherwise polished nature. Truth is, I wanted to help on my own terms. My ego won over my desire to help. My service was selfish.
I was wrong.
The reason I bring this up in the middle of a pandemic is that I was reminded of this when I put on a mask for the first time. It was uncomfortable, strange, and felt like it was going against my stubbornly independent nature. Truth is, no one makes masks look “good” (except you, dear reader, you absolutely have the perfect cheek structure to rock that thing!). Many times in my life, I have traded what was wise for what was selfish. Clothing is only one of the examples I could point to. Yet, I continue to push myself to wear a mask because I am reminded of how it doesn’t isolate me as fashionably inept, rather it unites me with the masses of people who are doing what they can to make this world better. To wear a mask, in some small way, is a step towards humility and a socially distanced step towards the well-being of others. There is much data that while nothing is a “silver bullet” in terms of staving away the virus, masks, distance, and sanitizer (loads of sanitizer) help greatly in stoping its spread to others.
As someone who has a serious health condition myself, I would implore you to wear a mask. As a Type 1 diabetic, you might never know how deeply I struggle with this condition both day and night. By looking at me, there are not telltale signs of my vulnerability. I am painfully normal looking. Yet, illness, any illness, can turn my life upside down. Because of my condition, I am more prone to serious heart conditions, kidney issues, blindness, and amputation. I say this not to scare you or illicit unneeded pity, but to give you cause for thought. If I struggle, what about the people you come in contact while you are out? Is their well-being any less important than your own? While I go out rarely, and will continue to do so even as our state “opens” back up, I do so with an incredible amount of preparation and discernment.
My health, depends on your decisions
The thing we need to realize, is that we all depend on each other. No matter how much we celebrate our freedom and individuality, our lives are affected by the decisions of others. From birth, we enter into a type of “social contract” that makes us all morally responsible to each other simply because we share a plot of land called Earth. Of course, we can argue the varying degrees of “morality”, but wearing a mask is definitely on the bottom shelf of our society’s demands to each other.
If you believe in a higher power, you might see this pandemic as an opportunity to draw us closer to each other. Through our ego and worry, we have isolated ourselves in the name of technology, production, and ego. While I am careful not to freely speak for God, I would posit that maybe He/She is sounding a silent alarm, drawing us near to thyself and to our fellow man/woman. How we answer this call will define a generation. There are practical steps we can take, right now, to help those around us.
Please, wear a mask.
It looks good on you.
Matt simon blog 