What if I’m not ready to come out?

“Be careful what you wish for,” is the old wisdom contained in one of Aesop’s better fables, from around 600BC.

The fable itself is about an old man who finds himself unable to lift a load of wood on to his shoulders. It’s the final frustration for him, in his difficult life, and he calls for Death to take him and relieve him of the pain of living.

Death, ever vigilant, immediately appears. The minute the old man sees the true, awe-inspiring power and horror of Death before him, he changes his mind and says, “Actually, all I needed was some help lifting this wood on to my shoulders. Could you give me a hand? I don’t feel like dying any more.”

While I doubt many of us are wishing for death quite yet, many of us have been wishing for freedom for these past couple of months. Quarantined and isolated, we stare compulsively into our phones, potter around our increasingly messy homes, watching series, and dreaming of the days when we used to be able to interact with people at work, at play and in society.

A few lobby groups have arisen, from business and even the surfing community, advocating for our need and our right to again begin congregating and following the various group pursuits humans have become known for.

These arguments all have some power. But as the government begins relaxing lockdown restrictions and the idea of actually having to go back out into society becomes more real, some of us may be wishing we’d been a bit more careful about what we’ve wished for.

My workplace is already making plans for the relaunch of our physical office, and I found myself muttering, “Woah! Back to work? But we’ve only been working from home for two months. Haven’t seen a friend since March. But let’s not rush into anything!”

The truth is, once the initial shock of social withdrawal wears off, one gets quite used to one’s little home bubble. It’s kind of cosy, and the routine is nothing if not regular. There is also a sense of being safe from the pandemic “out there”.

Illusory as this feeling may be, it helps us feel secure.

But the time will come for us to head out into the big wide world we claimed to be missing so much, and to meet those friends, those co-workers and those family members we’ve ostensibly been so desperate to see.

Having internalised the very real risks of social interaction these days, I wonder how that is going to go for us.

Adding to the slight sense of foreboding which freedom currently presents is the knowledge that the lockdown was not only to keep people safe and to slow the rate of transmission. It was to give healthcare systems time to prepare for an inevitable surge in cases.

As the lockdown recedes, one imagines they are now as prepared as they’re ever going to be.

They’re ready for us. But I’m not ready for hospital!

It seems a time is approaching where we will all be asked to return to civilisation and do our best to stay safe, in the understanding that, despite all of that, we’re likely to contract this condition.

Most of us will be fine, they tell us. Many of us not.

Like the old man with his pile of wood on the side of the road, I am suddenly not so keen on what I have so fervently been wishing for.

All I really want is a bit more company. The odd social interaction. A hug once in a while. Otherwise, I’m cool to just stay in my flat!

Really. I’ll be good! Let me just rock a personal Stage 4, and I’ll let you guys know when I’m ready to come out! For now, I’ve just started watching Community. It’s six seasons, so there’s really no rush.

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