I am sure that I am not the only one trying to avoid a little catch in my throat. While I have not been forced into quarantine, three days in my home with my family makes time stretch in ways I could not have predicted.

Our dog is thrilled by our constant presence, the assumption being that now there are four of us at his constant beck and call. My idea of a balanced breakfast and my wife’s idea are not entirely aligned. The distribution of 14 days of food is a hard mark to hit when you’ve created giant teenage eating machines. They are not weighty teens, just tall, and bored, and able to graze like nomadic herbivores.

My initial reflection topic for March 15th, was “Exploring Space for Empathy.” In Chapter 7 of Daniel Goleman’s 1995 best seller Emotional Intelligence; Why it Can Matter More than IQ, Goleman says American psychologist E.B. Titchener first used the term “empathy,” as we understand it now, in the 1920s. “Titchener’s theory was that empathy stemmed from a sort of physical distress of another, which then evokes the same feelings in oneself.” In other words, empathy, as I will be referring to it today, is a physical emotional response mirroring another’s physical emotional response. Goleman goes on to point out how well babies do this and some, if not most, adults, as well. This is different than “sympathy, which can be felt for the general plight of another with no sharing whatever of what the other person is feeling.”

Where does that put us, socially distanced in our homes, behind electric screens and bleach wiped keyboards? It is possible, in this time of isolation, to sympathize, but can we empathize digitally? I think for that we need pictures, or videos, or recorded messages. I can cry my tears all day long on this black keyboard, but the physical distress of my emotions doesn’t convey in type. This wordy-work is moderated and polished, spell checked and edited. It is so removed from my water-filled-cellular-self as to leave only sarcasm and wit as reflective surfaces.

I must say here, that I am not a puddle of fear and tears. I am fortunate in that my presence isn’t required anywhere. There is nothing pressing or necessary outside of my home requiring my attention. I can stay home, but I feel the storm building beyond these walls. Trying to stay in the eye of the storm is not easy.

Here is a meditation for finding the calm in the eye of your storm: Eye of the Hurricane Meditation from PositivePsychology.com .

the Peach blossoms in my front yard are going strong, even though the world is home-bound. The clover in my back yard is dark green and striking purple as deep as my little dog’s knees. While the sky reflects the grayness of my thoughts it doesn’t stop Spring from rising up beneath my feet. It connects me to each of you, as a scent on the breeze, a puddle slipping into a stream, into a river. We get to share the sunlight. I encourage you to step outside into your little natural refuge. Put your feet up in your backyard. Park yourself in front of that balcony view. Clear space on your window-ledge and curl up with a nice look.

In the comments on Facebook, which this will be linked to forthwith, share your beauty in your safe space. Let others see the life that brings you hope. We will be together again, but until then, virtual high-fives to everyone. Share your beauty and your joy. Commiserate your sorrows and fears. Explore space for empathy in ways I haven’t even thought of yet. I will remember to share mine, too.