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What If Your Adventure Is Now?

In late March, one of my friends shared this quote from The Fellowship of the Ring:

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf. “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

Why did I need to be reminded that real adventures can be awful? A couple of years ago, I wrote this in a blog post on prioritizing discomfort:

But there is another part of me that craves adventure, and with adventure comes discomfort. It’s not the part of adventure that most of us yearn for. We want to see the world without being rained on or running low on food, thank you very much. But you can’t have a real adventure without opening yourself up to being uncomfortable.

I know that, but I tend to conveniently forget it. As I said, discomfort isn’t the part of adventure that most of us yearn for. So when I think about adventure, I think about going new places, meeting new people, and doing new things. I imagine that, if I encounter anything scary, it won’t be too scary. Just a mild thrill like I might feel on a roller coaster.

This moment has lots of the stuff that real adventures bring. Basics that we took for granted — like cleaning supplies and toilet paper and food staples — may be missing from store shelves. We are physically separated from people we love. We avoid going out unnecessarily, and when we must go out, we wear masks and steer clear of others out of consideration for them. Our world has been turned upside down.

And this adventure goes far beyond the mere discomfort of not finding what we need in the grocery store. It’s downright scary. We’re scared of the coronavirus and scared of losing our jobs. We’re scared for ourselves and for others. The uncertainty is driving us crazy. How long will this go on? When will things ever return to normal, and what will “normal” look like?

When we watch a superhero movie or read a fantasy novel or sit down for an episode of Dr. Who, we expect that things will turn out okay. The heroes will save the day. Beloved characters may die, but they will not die in vain. After watching Avengers: End Game, how many of us started speculating about how the next movie would fix things? No matter how awful a book or movie or TV show gets, we expect that there will be some version of “happily ever after” in the end.

But if we were actually in the adventures we enjoy vicariously experiencing, we might not feel so confident. Frodo trudged toward his goal with a will to destroy the Ring but with little certainty that he would succeed. What could one hobbit do, even with a friend to support him, against so much evil? Real adventures are full uncertainty. They can leave you quaking in your boots.

This doesn’t feel like an adventure.

How many adventures can you think of that don’t involve travel? Even when adventures occur in dreams, the dreamers travel through places like Wonderland or Unknown Kadath. Novelty is key to adventures. But many of us are staying at home as much as possible, and one day becomes much like the other. The only novelty we’re experiencing is the need to narrow our lives in ways we never have before while we face a situation we never have before.

If this is an adventure, we want no part of it. We may be experiencing all of the fear and unpleasantness that come with real adventures, but we have none of the excitement and discovery that we expect from adventures.

And how can we be the heroes we dream of becoming when we’re trapped in our homes, binging on Netflix so that we can drown out our fears for a while? The real heroes are the medical professionals, the grocery store workers, the delivery drivers, right?

If you ask them, many of those people will tell you they don’t want to be applauded as heroes. People who work at grocery stores never expected to put their lives on the line for our sake. One grocery store employee writes, “Cashiers and shelf-stockers and delivery-truck drivers aren’t heroes. They’re victims.” Health care professionals are tired of taking risks that could be mitigated with more personal protective equipment. In the words of one nurse, “We went to war without a gun.” Tired and lonely and frightened and stretched to the breaking point, another nurse writes, “I don’t feel like I’m nearly enough. That is why I tell people not to call me a hero. To me, it feels like a lie.”

This is an adventure that doesn’t feel like an adventure and that none of us want. It’s an adventure in which few of us are willing to play a hero’s role.

So what do we do?

It would be ridiculous for me to say that we simply need to reframe the present moment as an adventure, embrace it, and move forward. Reframing is a useful psychological tool, but I’d feel like a fraud if I just told readers to find the silver lining in the present moment.

I will say this: We all have every right to hate this experience. It’s okay to feel depressed and frightened and angry. It’s normal to wish this was all over or, better yet, all a bad dream. You don’t have to embrace this adventure or want to be a hero in it. And you don’t have to stop escaping into tales of adventure either.

But I will suggest that if you, like me, are mostly at home, and if it would help sometimes to experience this moment as an adventure — one that was forced upon you and that you’d give up if you could — then it’s time to embrace your inner Frodo and do whatever you can, however small the task and however inadequate you feel. You already know that some people are making masks, and as a recipient of a homemade mask, I am grateful to those people. But if making masks isn’t your thing, there’s far more that you can do:

  • You can wear a mask when you go out and practice social distancing. Most masks are for protecting others far more than they are for your own protection, so choosing to wear a mask is an act of consideration for those around you. I confess that I do not wear a mask when I take walks, because I only have one, and I walk in areas that are not busy and where I can steer clear of others. But if you will be near others, one of the kindest things you can do is wear a mask.
  • You can buy groceries for people who are more at risk than you are. In addition to helping those people stay safe, you will help reduce crowding in stores.
  • You can donate blood or, better yet, platelets. If you’ve recovered from COVID-19, the American Red Cross would like your plasma.
  • If you have the money, you can support small businesses by purchasing gift cards or possibly by making a purchase for delivery or curbside pickup. You also can support nonprofits with your donations.
  • You can be supportive of others, doing what you can to help them get through this. That can range from simply checking in with friends to finding ways to entertain others, such as creating a teddy bear hunt.

What if you’re one of the essential workers?

Two panels from Ms. Marvel by Saladin Ahmed Vol. 2: Destined
It’s okay if you don’t feel like a hero (from Ms. Marvel by Saladin Ahmed Vol. 1: Destined).

You have every right to be angry. Many of the people who call you a hero are benefiting from the risks you are forced to take — risks that they may not be taking. If you felt like you had a choice, you’d walk away from this. It’s hell. Forget this talk about heroes!

But heroes don’t always volunteer for that role. They don’t necessarily like it. They may feel angry or frightened or like they’re doing a terrible job, but they do what they must — what others see as heroic — because they feel like they have no other choice. It’s okay to tell people that you don’t want to be called a hero. It’s wonderful to stand up for yourself and say that what you really need is more personal protective equipment or for people to wear masks in your presence. But please don’t feel like you don’t deserve to be called a hero because you are scared or feel incompetent or never asked for this role.

I know that none of what I’m saying makes the situation better. I’m a writer, but this isn’t my story to control; I can’t write us all a happy ending. All I can say is this: If this is our adventure — this thing that none of wish was happening in our time — then we may as well grit our teeth and fight our way through. Let’s think of each other as teammates, all trying to beat this thing together, and let’s try to have each other’s backs — even if it’s by keeping our distance in order to keep our teammates safe.

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