Trauma. Grief.

It's kind of strange. For several days, I had been agonizing over a blog post that would follow up last Saturday's, where I mulled over the instantaneity of things these days. Many of us, conscious of law of attraction, have perhaps been too quick too avoid acknowledging and fully feeling our life's genuinely traumatic experiences, not wishing to re-create or re-attract them. As I peel away even more layers of my own heart's padding, I see that in fact we may have to do just that -- paradoxically, we may be more likely to re-create trauma if we don't fully address or feel it. And trying to articulate this clearly was proving quite challenging.

And then there was yesterday. The London apartment fire coverage started the day, and emotionally I never really moved on to the other shocks. Maybe it's my England thing. Maybe it's the fact that I have deepened, spiritually, since 2001. (I don't think I ever fully "felt" 911.) Initially, I got stuck in the fixation that the building would fall, and that not enough was being done to remove people from the perimeter. I wanted to be there, shepherding people away from the site, making sure local leaders knew (which I am sure they did!) the dangers to first responders and the health effects of the smoke and falling debris. I wanted to get people safely away before the collapse which, as of this writing, hasn't happened yet. I wanted, gosh, now that I think about it, to lead. Not being able to lead, I spun my heels. It wasn't until evening when I saw a particularly graphic news report that I really started to feel the horror of one of the worst traumas humans could possibly ever experience.

And that's it, isn't it? We have chosen to come to this earth at an unprecedented moment; not only do we have access to the technology that puts our voices and images and actions "out there" immediately, but the world's traumas come instantaneously to us, both in real time and in countless replays. (In my childhood, an event like that might have been illustrated on the nightly news by a single photograph. Black-and-white TVs and the printed word allowed a measure of emotional distance.) We have chosen the opportunity to really feel not only our own pain but that of others. No other human beings in history have had to make so many moment-by-moment choices about what to engage in, how to engage, and when to turn away. It's not a figment of your imagination; it is genuinely overwhelming. We are in uncharted waters here. My newly opening heart is reeling and it would be tempting to close up again. But no. Today, I am going to try to move through the emotions that come up, not around them. I am going to grieve, and if I can, embrace and even be, those people in the windows.