I guess I just feel like
By: Beau Everett
Tags: John Mayer, Optimism, Climate Change, Pandemic

We chose Maine for our summer vacation this year, in part, due to its high vaccination rates and correspondingly low incidence of COVID-19.

I’ve been trying to move through this pandemic, pretending everything is normal — or at least getting back to normal — when really nothing is. The natural rhythms of life — like the freedom of summer vacation and the excitement of back-to-school — have all been disordered. The ordinary rituals — not just graduations and weddings but handshakes and hugs — have all been disrupted, maybe for good. I’ve written about resilience before, but how can we adapt to change when we don’t know what the new normal actually is? How much uncertainty can a person manage — and for how long? It’s exhausting. And stressful.

I have a recurring dream that we’ve sold our apartment and we’re moving. In the dream, the move is always imminent, but still it’s taken me by surprise. I’m always wondering, “Why are we moving? Why did I agree to this?” We’ve lived in our apartment for over 20 years now. We’ve endured the terror of 9/11 and the destruction of Sandy. Now Covid. But I’ve never wanted to move. And I still don’t. So why do I keep having this dream?

Following the disruptions of 9/11 and Sandy, New York demonstrated its indomitable spirit and resilience. Those of us who stayed continued to get up each morning and go to work or school or wherever, not always with a clear picture of what the day would look like, but we did it. I remember coming home from work on 9/11, riding the bus, since the subway had shut down, and looking into the faces of my fellow riders. We were all shaken up, but we took comfort in each other’s presence. Through Sandy, I actually spent the night at work. The next day, my colleagues and I looked at each other and asked, “What next? Do we still have jobs?”

But after each of those shocks, there was ultimately a sense that recovery would come. To be sure, some New Yorkers left, but most stayed, and rebuilding seemed to offer an opportunity to build something better. Optimism didn’t feel naïve or fruitless.

I guess I just feel like I guess I just feel like Nobody’s honest, nobody’s true Everyone’s lying to make it on through I guess I just feel like I’m the same way too — John Mayer, I Guess I Just Feel Like

Lately though, the challenges that we are facing seem different. As opposed to dramatic shocks that prompt a swift, determined response and steely resolve, climate change and the pandemic have wrought a slow burn that have left society at war with itself. Both of these challenges to humanity draw comparisons to the parable of the boiling frog that responds swiftly when it’s suddenly dropped into boiling water but fails to understand the danger when placed in tepid water that is brought to a boil slowly.

The flaw in this analogy is that presumably no one is consistently warning the frog of the existential threat to its survival. [The other problem, of course, is that modern biologists have debunked this myth. For my purposes, however, I still believe that the frog will likely wait too long; even if it can save itself, its habitat will likely be irrevocably damaged if not entirely unsustainable for life in the long-run.] How can we be optimistic when we see ourselves so vividly in this allegorical frog?

I guess I just feel like good things are gone And the weight of my worries is too much to take on I think I remember the dream that I had That love’s gonna save us from a world that’s gone mad I guess I just feel like What happened to that — John Mayer, I Guess I Just Feel Like

This week, climate scientist Adam H. Sobel was writing about the effects of Hurricane Ida on New York City. “This is the point in the news cycle when I would normally be called upon to explain why, in a warmer climate, hurricanes and heavy rain events get more extreme,” he wrote.

But, he continued, “I can’t do it. Not today. At this dystopian moment, I’m just not feeling it, and I don’t think I’m alone.”

The sense of despair and frustration is palpable and contagious. About the year of fires, heatwaves, droughts, floods, and hurricanes, Sobel laments, “They come atop an ongoing crisis for our democracy that is preventing us, as a nation and a species, from effectively meeting any of these challenges.”