On a recent weekday morning, during the rush to get out the door, my husband, Ben, started telling me about a podcast he’d just heard on the health impacts of air pollution – seemingly oblivious to the shrieks of our four-year-old, who couldn’t find the right socks, or the fact that our seven-year-old was pouring soggy Cheerios down the dog’s throat.

I wanted to snap at Ben. Instead, I willed myself to do something that felt unnatural: I “turned toward” my husband.