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You’re freaking out,” my kiddo said to me on a call late last week. Though mountains and miles separate us, he knows.

His words were in my head this morning as I woke with anxiety and deep worry chewing at my edges. I realize my kiddo’s statement is fact. I am indeed freaking out.

The world feels dangerous right now — because it is. I’m relieved to be in a state of shelter-in-place (such an interesting phrase), though I remain healthy of body. Except for the sting and discomfort of allergies, I count myself lucky. At least for the moment. China fears food shortages. Italy reports military caravans are transporting coffins to crematoriums. In the States, we scramble for medical supplies and toilet paper. The statewide Stay Home, Stay Safe order was inevitable.

My marketing work with Dominican Center leads me to write and post hopeful, prayerful messages on social media, and I’m beyond thankful for the task as I search out words and wisdom from past and present contemplatives and poets. It lessens the weird hum in my head and heart.

This morning I chastised myself for reaching first for my phone to consume the news I missed in my fitful night’s sleep. But out of the periphery of my vision, I see that outside my window the sky is awakening and it is showing off. I set my phone aside to watch as the horizon turns from gray to pink and orange, like a bowlful of rainbow sherbet. The puppies sigh and snuggle in a little tighter. I already look forward to my guy returning home from work. I think about making oatmeal raisin cookies. I finally rise to jump on a phone meeting, practice yoga, walk the dogs, write. Time ticks on.

Later, I think about my parents, who feel far away. But they seem calmer than I and assure me they have enough food, and because they don’t really require meds, all is well for the time being.

After we give voice to our disconcertion, we laugh, and I feel myself freaking out a little less.