I’ve found myself checking my phone, reading the news, and turning on the radio more often lately. Each headline sends a little current of energy through me.

“The virus is spreading… markets are crashing… schools are closed…”  

If you’re worried, it’s understandable. There’s panic in the air and anxiety in our bones.

When I was a small child, my mother often brought me with her to run errands or go food shopping. I remember very clearly waking up in the passenger seat of the car one afternoon, all alone. Mom was nowhere to be found.

I panicked and began to cry—full on wailing. I felt so frightened. "Where is she? Why did she leave? What's going on?"

I was too young to recognize what had happened: I'd fallen asleep while we were driving, and rather than rouse her sleeping son, she had dashed into the store for a few minutes. (She returned, comforted me, and all was well).

When things change unexpectedly, how do we handle it?

Growing up is about more than aging. It’s about maturing the heart.

A mature heart understands that life is uncertain. Everything can get turned upside down suddenly. Fear is a natural, healthy response to danger. But giving in to overwhelm, letting panicked thoughts take over, or allowing the sirens of the news media infect our mind doesn’t help.

Spiritual and emotional maturity doesn’t mean we never feel afraid. It means we have the capacity to self-soothe and see clearly during a crisis. It means we have enough balance and wisdom to not freak out when things go haywire, nor to cut ourselves off in denial and pretend we feel okay when we don't.

Three of my loved ones are in high-risk categories. Two of them are stuck in Rome as I write. I feel very concerned, and I'm in touch with them almost daily. But I don't feed the fear or let my mind move into panic.

It was pouring rain outside during my meditation this morning—blessed rain during this dry California winter. I sat quietly, feeling the firmness of the chair and allowing the patter of the rain to blend with the rhythmic sensations of my breathing. I was aware of the space around me, the drops of water touching the earth outside. With each breath, any residual tension or fear slowly melted.

Meditation teaches us how to breathe with the truth of each moment—pleasant or unpleasant. It takes courage to be with things as they are. When we can meet our life with patience, we have more discernment, make wiser choices, and can share our gifts with others.

I hope you’re finding the courage and skills to stay grounded during these times.

If you need a little boost, I’ll be leading some free, live guided meditations online over the coming weeks. The first one is this Monday at 12pm PT, 3pm ET. Follow me on social media or see my website for details.

In kindness,

Oren

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