November 5, 2021
Every once in a while I think I should just keep my mouth shut. So today, on the five-minute drive to the store, I asked my Guides to help me keep my lips zipped while wandering the aisles.
No harassing people about masks. No pontificating about toxic vaccines. Quiet, quiet, quiet.
There was an unanticipated collateral effect, though. I didn’t want to look at anybody’s face. I watched where I was going, I looked for the products I wanted. I glanced obliquely at shoppers and crewmembers to make sure I didn’t hit anybody with my cart.
I didn’t even murmur “excuse me“ when someone was in my way, just stood there and waited patiently in silence, a non-articled monk.
It was relaxing in a way, but overall, profoundly disturbing. It reminded me sharply of the first few months of the mask insanity, when I couldn’t bear to assault my eyes with the sight of so many humans walking about while under mental siege.
I’ve certainly avoided looking in the mirror with a mask on. When I have, it gives my heart a jolt. The badge of enforced silence, enslavement, oppression.
Humanity, what have we done to ourselves when a person who normally enjoys chatting with amiable strangers feels constrained to silence?
Most of us, at least in these mandate-crazy locales, just keep going along with it. I believe there was a protest in Santa Barbara on November 3. I know there have been many protests worldwide.
Those protesters make up zero-times-zero-some percent of our eight-billion-strong species.
We can’t all be protesters. Everyone has reasons and excuses, hard lives or fearful hearts. Or straightforward ignorance, another kind of silence.
*****
The protest in Santa Barbara apparently encouraged our governmental authorities to step up their overreach. The Santa Barbara County mask mandate has been extended to December 4. I’m sure it will go past Christmas, and past that, and to infinity unless something halts it.
Is that defeatist? Negative? Am I misusing the Law of Attraction by cynically forecasting the actions of the powers that be, so easy to predict based upon their entire handling of the so-called Covid crisis?
This would be an interesting topic to chat up at the supermarket, but my vow of silence holds until I get to checkout. Innocuous chatter ensues. I leave, feeling phantom limb syndrome for my loquaciousness. Unlike a missing limb, though, I’m sure my talkativeness will return one day soon.
*****
In Trader Joe’s, the shelves are overstuffed, despite dire predictions of upcoming shortages. (1) The standalone circular displays exhibit precariously balanced cans and packages. Crewmembers are unpacking stacks of boxes.
I try to picture barren shelves. Employees with nothing to do but tell customers there’s no product in the back, either.
I can’t imagine it happening. I can imagine the silver spaceships landing, but not empty shelves at Trader Joe’s.
I trundle thoughtfully out to my car with overladen grocery sacks, still pondering silence and speaking, sharing and keeping one’s own counsel.
Today, silence prevailed. I can’t guarantee such reticence next time around. If there’s cause to speak, I’ve little doubt that the same Guides who helped me maintain radio silence today will nudge me into speech. Goodness knows, I’ve got enough words to spare.
(1) See, for instance, Charlie Ward with attorney Leigh Dundas, https://tinyurl.com/5d6snd9b