Between the corona virus, the 2020 primaries, the stock market plummet, and a broken foot, I'm feeling a bit off-center. Actually a LOT off-center. With foot elevated, I've succumbed to my media feed, scouring the internet for the latest virus spread and delegate count and analysis of why, how, and if our leaders are doing what they should be doing to keep the nation afloat. I do this because it's important to be a well-informed citizen, because, I believe, democracy works best when we all engage, and it doesn't work—in fact, becomes dangerous—when we shrug off our responsibility to be informed and have a voice.

But all this engagement and participation in the public discourse is creating a constant static of worry, questioning, and second guessing that is surely lowering my immune system by the second. Then my daughter, who returned from Europe exactly eight days ago, calls to say she has a cough and is awaiting a callback from the St. Louis Public Health department confirming her qualification for coronavirus testing. The volume of the static just shot up a few decibels.

I am trapped between carrying on with my life as normal and knowing this is NOT normal. Playing the ACC & NCAA basketball tournaments with NO FANS in the stands is not normal. March Madness has taken on a whole new meaning. I want to do my part to keep the economy going, keep local businesses viable in the face of losing customers who are now being told to stay home. I want to take heart that I am not one of the immune-compromised people, that my very low probability of being a carrier is not a threat to anyone else, that my daughter is young and strong and able to withstand this virus. The hale and hearty of us need to carry on!

I have a friend who, freshly divorced at mid-life, is falling in love again. She's excited and surprised and delighted at the same time she is recovering from a cold after traveling to three US cities in the last week. She's trying to get tested for coronavirus but being told she doesn't qualify. Frustration and worry about her health coexist with the thrill of new love. Life goes on.

But for some, life will not go on. Those living closer to the edges of physical and financial health may lose their lives or their livelihoods. In some ways that's the way it has always been. Until now, most of us didn't know that the normal flu kills 30,000 a year. This new flu has precipitated a breaking point, an precedented reaction. Maybe the confluence of events has drawn our collective attention to the health of the nation on many levels, the fragility of the balance has been illuminated. Our physical health, our financial health, our moral health as a country--all are threatened at once. Maybe we are at an existential awakening.

The opportunity here just may be to fully see our collective experience, and exercise our power of empathy. Would it not be a good thing if we wake up to how remaining in silos, acting individually for our own personal gain, is irresponsible and hurtful? That myopic selfishness and self-indulgence be exposed as dangerous to everyone of us? We've all seen crisis pull people together, like 911 and Katrina, but it can also unearth our prejudices and call forth our blame-throwers. Which group will I join, which will we as a nation choose? Will we choose empathy and generosity or fear and blame?

I hope we all take the current state of flux and uncertainty as an opportunity to look both inward and outward for our collective empathy. Who among us is showing concern for the difficulties and complexities of managing--- and being at the effect of--a trifecta of health, financial and political crises? Through the static and imbalance, as we choose our leaders and plan our lives in ever-changing realities, I hope we all have the courage and persistence to sharpen our powers of empathy and curiosity for each other.