I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with meditation. It’s kind of like eating healthy — I feel better when I do it, but at the time I don’t want to do it.

Would-be meditators are often told to find someplace quiet and away from distractions. I always found those directions amusing, as the human brain is the single biggest source of distraction that exists. I’ve not heard of a method that allows a person to be separated from their brain (not temporarily, anyway).

We are bombarded with thoughts, tens of thousands every day. There are so many it’s difficult to focus on one thing for any length of time, which is one reason why people practice meditation. “Practice” is the key word. Even seasoned meditators can’t turn off the thought machine, they just get better at reducing the RPMs.

Silence is an intriguing concept to me. As an introvert, I like silence. I get worn down by noise. Silence refreshes me.

But most people hate silence, or at least it seems they do. For many people there’s not much of the day unfilled by radio, TV, cell phones, or conversations. 

Why is silence so uncomfortable for so many? Perhaps silence is mistaken for loneliness. The brain (that unreliable narrator) may be saying, “There is no one around, I am alone.” In that moment, the brain forgets what Henri Nouwen said about the difference between loneliness and solitude.

Perhaps people fear silence, similar to a dark room. There is no sensory input from silence.

The brain is in a dark room called the skull. It has no connection to the outside world except through the information it receives from the senses. When that information is cut off, the brain doesn’t take it very well. Dark rooms and silence are scary because… *anything* could be in there! I mean, there’s no proof a tiger isn’t in there. The lack of information lets our imagination fill in the details, and most people don’t imagine dark rooms to be filled with a million dollars.

Maybe people perceive silence as boring. But is it more boring than most TV? I don’t think so, but I’m the introvert here.

They used to say silence is golden. I still believe that. Now maybe I can find a way to get excited about meditating.

With the Coronavirus pandemic going on, I’ve been thinking about fear. I often think about fear… it’s my go-to character defect (or a “core competency” if I was in a job interview).

But in this case, my thoughts are less about my own fear and more about people’s reactions. There’s a lot of fear going around, but I’m wondering how much of it is truly about the virus.

One thing I’ve learned is… there is fear. But there is also Fear of Fear. So hold onto your hat. We’re about to get Meta.

Turtles and Buffaloes

Recursion is where something refers to itself. It can create infinite loops. A good way to understand recursion is through two examples.

First the turtles. A man and a woman are discussing what keeps the Earth from falling. The woman says the Earth doesn’t fall because it rests on the back of a giant turtle. When the man asks what keeps the turtle from falling, the woman replies, “It’s turtles all the way down!”

Next the buffaloes. It is a grammatically correct sentence to say, “Buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.” Here’s the explanation.  For our purposes it is enough to know that you could repeat the word “buffalo” an infinite amount of times and still have a grammatically correct sentence.

I can keep adding buffaloes and I can keep adding turtles…all the way down.

Fear All the Way Down

Fear is recursive. Let’s see how.

Let’s say I’m afraid Person A won’t like me. Next, I might worry that if Person A doesn’t like me, then Persons B, C, and D will notice and will also not like me (because I’m unlikable, you see). And everyone knows that if you’ve lost A, B, C, and D you’ve lost E through Z.

Those followers.

Now I’m afraid that no one will like me. I notice how tense I feel, and I remember that appearing afraid is uncharismatic, and thus contributes to why people don’t like me, and then I’m afraid of my own worry surrounding my fear of being disliked.

Fear replicates itself. It is self-fueling, self-fulfilling, and self-stimulating. It is a positive feedback loop that will not end without some sort of outside intervention. Most modern fear is like this—not fear of a cause (e.g., a tiger chasing you), but reactions to successive layers of stacked worry.

What does this have to do with Coronavirus? You might have an idea already. There is certainly fear about the virus. But fear of a virus does not cause people to buy a year’s worth of toilet paper. Only Fear of Fear does that. How so?

A virus evokes fear in some people. Other people notice and think “people don’t act afraid unless there is a reason.” More people experience fear. One person prepares for the virus by buying a lot of toilet paper. Already worried people now worry toilet paper will run out. Everyone buys toilet paper.

Negative Feedback

Most of the time negative feedback is no fun. I doubt many of us look forward to performance reviews or comments on how dry our baked chicken was.

But with fear, negative feedback is good. Negative feedback means we are moving towards balance. If you find yourself worrying about Coronavirus, observe your feelings. Ask yourself if you are worried about the virus… or if you are worried about something around the virus (e.g., your job, family, toilet paper).

Answering the following question will let you know which it is: “Can I do anything about this?”

If “yes,” the worry is productive. You are now aware of an action you can take.

“No” means the worry is not productive. But there are still things you can do:

• Accept that you are not in control (I hate doing this)
• Breathe in for a count of 4, out for 8 (seriously – Many people stop breathing when stressed)
• Call someone you care about. Remember we’re in this together.
• Make a gratitude list. Maybe some things aren’t so great right now… but other things probably are.
• Wash your hands for 20 seconds 😊