Opening your heart to pain is part of being fully alive. But it still sucks.

There is loss all around me, and I am stumbling to find a way to bear witness and be present without being being torn to pieces by the pain of it. Perhaps being torn to pieces is the only way.

I recorded this in a moment of inspiration (maybe desperation describes it better) yesterday morning. As shy as I am to share it (it's a little too raw; I'm a little too just-out-of-the-shower), it feels like the only thing I have to offer right now.

I witness my aunt and my family, who are navigating the consequences of my aunt's terminal cancer diagnosis even as we continue to mourn my grandmother's passing.

I witness my peer group, who are struggling to come to terms with the passing of many of our role models this year, including the suicide of one of our most beloved role models. I witness the fear in myself, that the darkness can take any of us, no matter how old we are, no matter how accomplished or beloved.

And I witness my fellow humans nationwide, most recently in Ferguson, who are hurting and mourning and raging as a result of repeated injustice. I witness them here, and I will witness them on Thursday afternoon as part of a National Moment of Silence vigil. There is a vigil in your area, too. Find it and consider attending. It's not the most we can do, but it's a start.

No matter who you are, your greatest gift is your attention, your intention, your energy. Don't shy away; don't hide it under a bushel. Be a part of what's going on, even if doing so threatens to tear you to pieces.