The Red Pill - What ‘The Matrix’ Film Can Teach Us About Covid-19
I was lying in bed this weekend reflecting on this past year and thinking how extraordinary its been, and for some reason, my mind wandered to the 1999 science fiction film classic 'The Matrix' which depicts a dystopian future in which humanity is unknowingly trapped inside a simulated reality, controlled by a cyber intelligence. Through a series of events, reality falls away to uncover the real 'ugly' nature of the world. As computer programmer Neo played by Keanu Reeves starts to question the truth, he is given a choice by the Matrix rebels to either take the red pill which will reveal his true existence, or to take the blue pill to remain ignorant about the fabricated world he lives in. In some way this year we've all taken the red pill and unlike Neo, we weren't given the choice. The world we knew has dissolved and we have found ourselves making sense of a new normal. Taking part in our own sci-fi movie about a pandemic, hurtling towards a future with much uncertainty. In taking the red pill we were confronted with some uncomfortable truths as well as an invitation to a more connected, compassionate, truthful, and fairer existence. Fittingly it was revealed this year by the directors of ‘The Matrix’ that the film was a metaphor for being Transgender but at the time the world was not ready for this truth. I believe we are now.
Initially, we went inward, living a kind of monk existence, confronted with ourselves, and sitting in this new transient and unknown space. A pause in which to connect to our community, rekindle our love of nature, and find a new appreciation of the simple things in life like walking, baking bread, or singing to bring us joy, relief, and comfort. In Stopping we thought less about 'doing' and more about 'being'.
Those from lower socio-economic and black and minority ethnic groups were faced with having to go out and work on the frontline in low-paid jobs being exposed to Covid – 19 and then coming home to their families, many of whom live in multiple generational households. As news emerged of the countless deaths in these groups, people started to question why this was happening? Inequality in our society was being highlighted by the deaths in these vulnerable and unprotected groups and showing that the systems in place did not benefit everyone. By the time George Floyd was murdered, the streets erupted with anger about the injustices faced by black people and other minority ethnic groups. The red pill was breaking down the façade that we live in a fair world where everyone has the same opportunities and revealed the ugly truth of systemic racism, and socio, economic disparities in our society. These disparities and racism are heavily ingrained in the frameworks of education, business, healthcare, the arts, basically everywhere. In particular, the Black Lives Matter movement shone a light on some of these imbalances making us aware of our unconscious biases and changes we need to make, so that life is fairer for everyone and not just an elite few.
This year the pandemic has also laid bare our inadequacy to plan, talk about, and cope with death. It has reminded us of the medicalisation of death with doctors and nurses at the forefront of providing end of life care and support in a way that they might not have been trained or prepared for. Doctors, nurses, and hospital staff had become a replacement for the families who did not have the choice to sit at the bedside of their loved ones. These Families have had to deal with isolation in their grieving and find new ways to remotely honour their dead and say goodbye. Many of them would have never known what their loved one's wishes might have been at the end of life or for their funeral. If these conversations had of taken place it might have offered some comfort by facilitating one or more of those funeral wishes (if permitted) during Covid-19. If there is learning from this it is that we need to plan for our end-of-life care and funerals, complete our wills and organise any other financial, domestic, and healthcare paperwork. Being equipped practically and emotionally to navigate death and dying can empower ourselves, health professionals, and communities to support each other fully during death and in its aftermath.
Facing our mortality and those we love has meant that we are finally realising that death is ever-present in our lives and that everything in life is impermanent. Without the daily frameworks of schools, work, family, or friends around us to keep ourselves busy we are left with the questions of who are we? What gives us joy? And what do we need right now to heal ours and each other's soul, body, and mind? We have found a way to connect through technology to reach each other again and remind ourselves of who and what is good in our lives. But without the limitations of having to travel to another country, for example to a conference, talk, or event, we can now enjoy a different connection to people globally. And there is a sense that we are not alone, that everyone in the world is in this together. Meghan Markle, the Duchess of Sussex wrote in her recent article for the New York Times about the losses we have all faced this year (including her miscarriage in July), death of loved ones, loss of work, financial struggle, political divide, social isolation, and speaking our truths. We are adaptable, capable of transformation and growth to become a better version of ourselves, one who considers others more, our community, and the environment we live in and contribute to. This year we have become more connected through our collected grief and trauma. By sharing our stories and truths we can learn to hold our own and each other's pain and move forward to a place of healing. We have gained insight on how to be more human, navigating the impermanence, unpredictability, ugliness, and beauty in life. After Neo, in 'The Matrix' decides to take the red pill Morpheous says to him “Welcome to the Real World”. I hope that this year in some way has taught us to live with a more truthful, compassionate, open, and vulnerable heart.