Looks like Jean Paul Sartre has his way. Famously, his play, ‘No Exit’ declares that ‘Hell is other people!’ In it, is explored the premise that our suffering is magnified by the presence of companions, particularly those banal and irritating folks holding views differing from our own — and who are oh so ready to share same. The ‘eternal sentence’ is one of being trapped, inescapably in the relentlessness of socialization. . . forever.

Of course, there are those days when I’ve finally peeled off a traffic-jammed multi-laner onto the solitude of a quiet country road; or emerged from the chaos of a crowded, noisy city street, into the seclusion behind the insulation of ‘my door’; or, having cleared airport security, exhaled that first, cleansing breath at the start of a ‘silent retreat’. (In the case of the latter, too few!) Being alone and freed from the need to be around folks, then, certainly has its appeal. On those days, I’m happy for, hunger after such glorious isolation.

However, the past few days, has seen me spending my time mostly opening emails from a hugely varied array of senders, all essentially with the same message: keep your distance! Most are cautiously, optimistically framed. But all echoing the theme that has come to consume an already preoccupied media. Social Distancing: the, at times, advised, recommended, at times, mandated practice of enforced avoidance of other people, self-initiated or otherwise.

A short list: a colleague advising patients that video-counselling may be necessary, supplanting the office visit that typically restores balance to a day. The accounting firm, as tax crunch time approaches, informing clients that the customary shoe boxes of documentation may be better delivered digitally — conjuring up some very odd images indeed. The vet’s office, in an odd (but understandable) inversion, notifying pet owners that sick animals are able to be ministered to; owners may remain in their car. A long-awaited symposium, exploring the efficacy of online therapy services, postponed indefinitely — again, the irony not lost on the fate of a workshop entitled ‘The Future of Psychotherapy’!

And, as the ‘circle of concern’ widens: the National Ballet, the Stratford Festival, sports seasons across the board; and this, ‘just in’, churches closing their doors! Sinister photos of piazza’s normally teaming with life, from San Marco to St. Peter’s now empty. Caution tape demarcating the minimum allowable distance between shop customers in a land where ‘lining up’ typically means pushing, pressing to the front.

Those cherished moments of sequestered peace and privacy aside, social distancing has a strangely antithetical and foreign sound to my ears. We are a social species. The benefits, both physical and psychological, of affiliation are well documented. We live longer, are happier, and suffer less depression when we live in community. During times of crisis, our tendency is to ‘come together’, drawing on the ‘higher values’ that often manifest in such periods of need. We talk, we plan, we empathize. We touch, we hug, we hearten. All in expressions of mutual support and encouragement. A compelling image for me has always been that of Indra’s net, in Buddhist tradition a ‘jeweled web’ each gem holding the reflection of all others, and symbolizing an interconnected universe.

So what is one to do when this very human predisposition is set up against self-preservation, medical and political edict, and even common sense. When we are advised, indeed instructed to ‘isolate for our own good’ — and the good of the community as a whole. Psychologically we are thrust into a state of cognitive dissonance, a kind of ‘Sophie’s Choice’, where our belief and instinct conflict with our behaviour — and we end in a mental tug of war, having to choose between a rock and a hard place. Nothing new about this condition — think being a ‘pack-a-dayer’ in the face of dire warnings about the health risks of tobacco.

Resolving the dilemma turns out to be a tad easier said than done. Three options:
change what we believe,
change what we do, or
reconcile the conflicting bits.

The belief. . . For Mr. Sartre, easy peasy: people are insufferable anyway, so no problem doing a Ted Kaczynski and building a cabin in the woods, firm in the belief that ‘getting away from it all’ is job one. Or, better yet. Channel Donald: Covid-19, fake news, a media conspiracy. Poof, all gone!

The behavior. . . I read a telling article in the Globe headlined ‘The Virus Quarantine is Social Torture for Italians’; and subtitled: ‘An encounter without a coffee, a meal, or an aperitif (with a friend) is called an email’. Try changing that one!

An uneasy reconciliation . . . It seems, then, that we’re left with mollifying some pretty strange bedfellows. But it does seem the wisest, perhaps the only option. The ‘containment’ ship (call it the NIMBY solution) has clearly sailed. Donald’s fantasy of ‘shutting out the bad guys’, closing geographic borders to a virus that may be ‘intelligent’ by some accounts — but rarely seems to line up to clear customs, may have some lapses in logic. Letting things ‘run their course’ unchecked, head down (or more likely heading for the hills) to hunker down with the local chapter of ‘preppers’ to wait for the smoke to clear is, well, just a little too socially distant. (But if that floats your boat, the graphic to the right is your basic packing list.)

And here’s a novel and optimistic thought: maybe, just maybe what we’re doing in crisis to slow a virulent virus down might just be useful, respectful practices next month . . , next year, next ‘common garden’ flu season.