Coronavirus came knocking on my door out of the blue. I waved my hand and tried to convince myself that this wouldn’t last long. That now a good “wizard” will come and the situation will change. That this is some kind of mistake or it won’t affect me. I hoped that I would wake up another beautiful morning and breathe a sigh of relief, realizing that it was just a bad dream. Instead, I read new reports of the dead and sick; wrote out passes for going to the grocery store; wiped hands with antiseptic; I lost the opportunity to communicate live with friends and parents. Now I am at the dacha in self-isolation and I no longer have any illusions that this natural disaster will last long. The world will not be the same as before. I lost some of my confidence and calm. I lost the illusion of my exclusivity and that medicine would protect me. I felt vulnerable and thrust into an unstable and threatening world without my consent. I am part of nature. Part of her awakening, inspiration and, unfortunately, disaster and finitude. The one with the scythe walks around the world and takes people with the help of invisible servants - the coronavirus. I would like to declare war on the coronavirus, but the enemy is invisible. I cannot oppose him with my open heroism. I can’t meet him with an “open visor.” All that remains for me is to confront the catastrophe with the courage to be confused and in despair, and the courage to accept the inevitability, agreeing that I, too, am one of the people under the threat of “not being.” I would like to protect myself from the forces that rush over me with double force existential givens. It is simply intolerable to let them pass through you. It's terrifying to be exposed to the world as it seems to be now. I want to hide. To bury myself in my mother's lap, just like in childhood. But it is very difficult to hide. Too blatant a reality. I can die, I have no control over the situation, I am vulnerable and my adaptation mechanisms can be destroyed overnight, I am interconnected with others, I am scared. Today I was sad about my morning walks to my office. On the way, I liked to stop at a cafe and order myself aromatic tea and two walnut cookies. They remembered me in this cafe and, without further questions, clarified: “Do you, as always, have no sugar and four pieces of ice?” I could exchange smiles with the waiters and talk with the cafe manager. Now I am deprived of this pleasure (as well as many others from that time). On a walk between summer cottages, I warmly greet rare passers-by in anticipation of receiving a piece of living warmth in return (an answering smile), but along with this warmth I experience the fear of being infected. I stay away, keep my distance. “We don’t see the enemy,” is spinning in my head. I feel pulled between being drawn to people and being in danger from them. This is a new reality for me. I can't go to the store in peace. In the store, I was very careful: who coughed where, did I put my hand in my face, don’t break the distance, wipe my hands with an antiseptic.. Without fear, I can only contact other people online. My daughter goes to school online. My wife is learning dance online... I am isolated from threatening others and I need intimacy with others. Moreover, I am interconnected with others in fulfillment and satisfaction in life. I cannot be full of happiness, knowing that people are dying and suffering around me... Shopping, chatting with friends over a cup of tea, entertainment. It's all in the past. I lost my usual activities. I grieve for the loss. I am destabilized by the unknown. I'm all about saving energy and self-preservation. I cannot and do not want to read complex professional literature. It’s enough for me that my body works around the clock to adapt and rethink my life and relationships with others. I find new pleasures: drinking tea with a sandwich and jam, chopping wood, laying the floor in the kitchen, hugging loved ones, playing trampoline ball with my daughter, listening to birdsong, riding bicycles along abandoned forest paths.. It’s not easy for me to accept reality. Losing clients, worrying about a “groaning” business. At first, while in»…