A Forced COVID Walk — Moses Falco

One day this summer, as I was biking to work, I heard a loud pop as I crossed a bumpy intersection. I quickly looked down at my tires and they seemed to be fine, so I kept riding. But I slowly started to notice that my bike wasn’t moving the way that it used to. A little while later I stopped again and looked down - my back tire was flat!

I had made it three quarters of the way to my church so it didn’t seem too daunting to walk the remainder. As I started to walk, I reflected on this experience and realized that it was analogous to what we’ve all experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic. It reminded me of some of the things I learned along the way, and gave me a fresh perspective on what our way forward might look like.

I noticed 4 things about my forced walk that related to what I’ve felt during the last 20 months:

1) The Disorientation
When I first heard the pop, I couldn’t believe it, or at least I didn’t want to believe it. Although it wasn’t a big deal to walk, I was thinking more about how I would get home. I’d have to call Jessica to pick me up and then I’d have to figure out how to fix a tire (something I’ve never done before). I kept riding until it wasn’t safe or smart to do so anymore. Unless I wanted to cause more damage to the bike, I was forced to walk.

I’ve felt the same kinds of uncertainty and disorientation over the past year and a half in a COVID-amplified way. At first I didn’t believe that the pandemic would hit us, or that it would stay longer than a few months. I kept thinking everything was fine, until we were forced to accept that it wasn’t. Rules and restrictions kept changing, and the opening up and shutting down of public and private spaces became the new rhythm.

This has been a season of disorientation that’s kept us all guessing - and just like my realization that the tire actually did pop, I think we’ve all felt the frustrations of a pandemic forced upon us. We’ve also had to innovate and learn new ways of being together. For example, I never heard about Zoom before the pandemic, but it quickly became my most used tool.

2) The Pace
As soon as I started walking with my bike in hand, I was struck by how slow my pace actually was. It took me longer to walk that short stretch than it would take me to bike the whole way from my home to my church. I was frustrated at this inconvenience because I wanted to get some things done as soon as I got to church. But again, I had no choice. I was moving slow.

I remember when the first lockdown hit us in Winnipeg - suddenly, so many things were cancelled. Jessica and I went from having plans and commitments three or four evenings a week, to having our schedules wiped clean. Life slowed down to a pace where we could actually breathe. For some of us it felt frustratingly unproductive while for others it was a welcome change. What caused isolation and loneliness for some helped others get much needed rest.

3) The Mess
Whenever I bike, my focus is on the road (as it should be). I don’t often take the time to notice what’s around me. Although I’m familiar with the area around my church, when I was forced to walk, I couldn’t help but notice the amount of garbage that was littered on the boulevards and in the bushes. I passed by it everyday, but only when I had the occasion to pay attention did I notice it.

In a similar way, I believe a lot has been unearthed during this pandemic. Because we’ve had the time to notice, we’ve come face to face with some of the problems present within our society and within ourselves. Although hate, greed, discrimination, and polarization have always been present in our world, we’ve noticed it in a new way. Rather than bring us together, this pandemic seems to have divided us further. And these divisions are not only at the societal level - almost every family I’ve talked to has felt this tension and frustration.

4) The People
When I blew my tire, I moved to the sidewalk to make my way to my church. I passed by multiple people whom I would never notice had I still been biking. It made my day that almost every person I came across smiled and said hello. It felt familiar (if not normal); but more than anything, it felt good to notice others and to be noticed by them.

Despite our efforts to be physically distanced (or even isolated) from people during this pandemic, we’ve seen a heightened focus on people. Especially in the church, when everything we were familiar with was stripped away, all that remained were the people. We were reminded that this is exactly what the church is. We are not a building or a program - we are a community of people gathered together and united in our goal to follow Jesus.

This reality isn’t unique to the church, of course. With a renewed focus on the importance of relationships, community, mutual support, and mental health during this pandemic, we’ve been able to see people who we may have otherwise passed over. It has helped us to focus on what is truly important to reimagine what it means for us to be a community.

As I look back on my biking experience, I have mixed feelings. Popping my tire meant that I had to walk, that I had less time at work, that Jessica had to pick me up, and that I had to buy new tubes and learn how to fix a tire. Yet at the same time, I appreciated the change of pace, noticing people, and learning a new skill.

I wonder, as we’re beginning to ease our way out of this pandemic, if we also have some mixed feelings. This has been such a hard time for many of us. Some have merely been inconvenienced, while others have had their entire lives turned upside-down. But what have we noticed about life when our pace has slowed, when we’ve focused on people, and when we’ve been forced to be creative and learn new things? I hope that our reflection will give us clarity about where we’ve been and help us find a better way forward - a more honest, hopeful, and beautiful way.