Science and spirit both show us continually the direct relationship between fiction and empathy.
I cry ugly and laugh loud when I watch movies, and I become critically hinged into a world when I read a book. I'll find myself wondering what certain characters are doing, how they might handle a situation I'm in, or want to ask them questions about their backstory. This is the kind of curiosity I think we should feel about others. It's not exclusively curious, either. It's laced with respect and compassion.
I read the news. Typically I wake up, have coffee and look at what's making headlines. I use this phrase not noting what the broad spectrum of current events might be, but specifically to emphasize what sound bubbles are big enough to float to the top, and subsequently explode over the surface. I remember when the Shell Oil refinery had a malfunction in my high school town. There was a massive explosion of thick hot chemicals. My friends garden and her moms car had been speckled with the stuff; thick and permanent. Their house was at least 3 miles away from the source. It's wild how far and how fast sludge can travel, whereas the lightness of empathic awareness is, mostly, an individual pursuit of the moment. Moving through, rather than blanketing on.
Maybe book clubs are saving the world. Maybe museums are a kind of medicine vault worth protecting. Movie theaters are a kind of church. Libraries too; both with their smells and silence. These are the places I love, that make me better, that love me without conditions or expectations. All I have to do is show up and say yes, I want to get torn open today.