You’re Doing The Best You Can

We’re all just trying to survive this plague

“There is no try. Only do.” — Yoda

With all due respect to the beloved Star Wars guru Yoda there is no do, only try. Those of us who do only did because we tried our best.

And that’s what I’m doing right now. My best. That doesn’t mean I’m succeeding. But the odds are on my side if I just keep moving forward. These are dark days but at least my eyes are open.

Here’s what I do:

I wake up most mornings and think: “I can’t believe this is real.” But it is real: I am trapped inside because there’s a deadly pandemic outside. I then go back to sleep and have nightmares about the last toilet paper roll in New York City.

Eventually, I combat roll out of bed and make coffee. I text at least one person at random “I love you.” Then I stretch. I reach up like someone duct-taped bacon to the ceiling. I bend over and wiggle ‘hello’ at my toes with my fingers. I’m doing the best I can.

I take a shower so hot the hope is I’ll melt and go down the drain. I put on pants and try to pull them up over my head. I stare out the window of my third-floor apartment and watch subway trains filled with people rumble by on the elevated track. These workers are called “essential” and they are, especially to their loved ones. They’re doing the best they can.

I’m living life day by day, minute by minute, teeth-grinding panic attack by teeth-grinding panic attack. I worry that I’ll never see my loved ones again. I don’t tell them that because I want them to think I’m cool, like Charlie Bronson. Thankfully, they know I’m not cool like Charlie Bronson. But I pretend like I am anyway. I’m just doing the best I can.

I am trying to stay positive. In the future, we will all wear tents. I try to keep busy. I practice smiling. I name each and every bean. I watch movies with puppets.

I walk my dog outside while wearing a homemade mask because the breeze could be contaminated. I live in a city of ninjas now. I talk on the phone to my mother who lives alone in Texas. Our conversations are pleasant and ordinary and we don’t say “goodbye” just in case.

I spend a lot of time staring into various screens. I hate that I use the word ‘zoom’ so much and it has nothing to do with racecars or jetpacks. I comb my hair before I videoconference because it makes me feel like society hasn’t collapsed.

The other day, I watched the climactic battle of the recent summer blockbuster Avengers: Endgame on YouTube and teared up when Captain America’s friends show up to help him defeat Thanos. I wish I could summon a magic inter-dimensional portal. I mean, I’d still follow the rules of social distancing so I’d just open a portal in your living room and wave before disappearing.

I am doing the best I can and so are you.

I told my therapist over video chat that I really struggled with saying “I’m doing my best.” It made me feel weak. To prove my point I reenacted an exchange between Sean Connery and Nic Cage in the classic guy movie The Rock:

John Mason (Sean Connery): “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Stanley Goodspeed (Nic Cage): “I’ll do my best.”

John Mason: “Your best! Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen.”

When I was doing my Sean Connery impersonation I made sure to pronounce every ‘s’ as ‘shhhhhhhh.’ The last part of that back-and-forth is basically one of toxic masculinity’s most sacred prayers. I’m a winner!

I assumed my shrink knew what I was talking about. He’s just a few years older than I am. But in case you don’t know this movie, it’s about domestic terrorists and Alcatraz Island and, oh fuck it, it’s about kabooms.

The Rock is an action movie made during a silly decade when things were, generally speaking, not bad. Not perfect! But the ’90s were pretty chill. And The Rock is one of the cultural products of this era of splendor.

My therapist almost immediately told me The Rock sucked, except for that one car chase between a Humvee and a Ferrari through the streets of San Francisco that ends with a street trolley exploding. He said Connery is better in The Hunt For Red October. He also reminded me that winners are just losers who got lucky.

So I’m doing the best I can. I heat up frozen French bread pizzas. I watch TV shows about spaceships and secret cyborgs. I read the news and mourn the unbelievable pain this country is suffering. I go to sleep and in the morning I think: “I can’t believe this is real.” But it is real and I’m going to get through the day and the next. That’s all I can do.