Rewiring our thoughts in a mask-less world

Our everyday cloth shield is coming down. How does that feel?

Over these 2 hard years of the coronavirus pandemic, masks have come to mean something different for different people. What was once only a Halloween costume or a hospital necessity to most of us has became an everyday clothing item laden with meaning.

Our minds have taken in information from different sources. Our bodies have reacted in different, visceral ways.

For some, the masks spark outrage, representing government overreach and restriction. For me, the masks have become a comfort. In a global disaster, with so little one person can do to shift the alarming trajectory, wearing a mask is a simple act of kindness and protection. That’s how I see it — here, I am helping shield you from any germs I might have, and you are helping shield me, and bit by bit, we are helping the transmission rates fall, and this virus be shepherded out the door.

And for those of us with weakened immune systems, masks have been a welcome sign of shared compassion and an additional layer of safety in a scary time.

This week, New York State let its mask mandate expire, and New York City followed suit. Our community in the Hudson Valley, which has required masks inside schools, offices, and stores since March 2020, lifted the requirement, too.

It’s going to take time for our bodies to adjust.

Friday morning was the first morning in 2 years when masks weren’t required in schools. My son and I walked up the sidewalk hand in hand to the bus stop, neither wearing masks. But as the long line of kids waiting with their backpacks came into view, he stopped. “Mom,” he said quietly. “I want my mask.”

“OK,” I said. I pulled a cloth mask out of his backpack and helped him adjust the straps over his ears. His palm tucked back into mine, and I squeezed his hand. We walked the rest of the way. The kids in line, most without masks, were going about their usual routine of chatting and kicking bits of leftover snow.

I watched him stand in line, then climb on the yellow bus, and the bus pull away. And I wondered … What is he thinking today? Is he feeling the same gigantic cognitive dissonance as I am? Will this end to masks mean a surge in cases? Will all the kids be kind to those who are wearing masks? Will he end up pulling it down and taking it off? How will he feel?

The start of the COVID-19 pandemic was hard and abrupt, alarming and scary. Some people moved out of that era easily a long time ago. But some of us have been following the protective measures for 2 years now, and some people with severely compromised immune systems will need to follow them for a long time still.

And some of us will keep wearing masks at certain times, maybe now for the rest of our lives when we get a cold or travel. I am still wearing a mask in the grocery store, as the virus continues to circulate in our community and neighbors have been sick. And I’m not the only one.

Moving out of this fence of cloth protection can bring mixed feelings: Relief. Joy. Worry. Fear. Discomfort.

The same mental hurdle happens each time we re-enter a space after a long time or enter a new space for the first time.

We are retraining our brain how to view danger.

We are rewiring how we feel about the world we see.

But it’s going to take time to let ourselves fully relax, to show our body again and again that we’re not at immediate danger.

One way to retrain your brain about danger is repeated exposure. If you’ve been scared of something that you don’t want to be scared of, such as heights or spiders or dogs, you can exposure yourself to it a little, and then more, again and again, to unknot the connection between the stimulus and the fear alarm.

Which is to say, change takes time.

I’m writing this for you, but also for myself, to acknowledge that popping these bubbles, stepping outside of our social-distancing zones — whether now or in the weeks, months, or years to come — will take adjustment. Our bodies are resetting themselves. Our brains are rewiring themselves. Our thoughts are rewriting themselves. Our emotions are crawling around, too, figuring out whose turn it is this time.

When the discomfort rises up again, we can notice it, feel it, and allow it to move through us, and, in time, dissipate again. Discomfort can signal so many things, including change, the transition from one season of life to the next.

We are feeling it. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. We’re human. Change is underway again.

To our journeys and better health ahead,

Brianne