On Monday, March 9, I was out walking my dog when I saw a stunning, tangerine full moon hung low in the sky. Maybe you saw it. Its beauty seemed even more poignant than usual perhaps because it was the first day that I started to consider COVID-19, and I felt a strong sense of impermanence.
Until then, my head had been ostrichlike in the sand. I had heard about the virus but hadn’t paid much attention. I thought it unlikely that it would reach my family or me. And if it did reach us, it was like getting the flu, right?
That night, however, I started to get the feeling that things weren’t going to be all right, that the virus was more severe than I had previously believed. As I walked in the moonlight, I became melancholy. I couldn’t help but think, “Is this how it is all going to go down?” Would a “novel” virus not only wreak havoc on our daily lives and businesses but also claim lives? “Why would this happen to us?” I silently wondered. But I quickly heard the answer, “Why wouldn’t this happen to us?” This virus, or any crisis really, is a reminder that as much as we would like to believe that we are in control, we’re not. The planet has its own agenda.