Little Do We Know

I, along with everyone in my generation, will always remember where I was when I found out what happened. I was just starting my shift at the university bookstore. I was far away, in Rhode Island. But my mom was in the Bronx and my stepdad was on the Upper East Side. Little did I know that the man who would become my husband was at law school in lower Manhattan, where he had to evacuate his classroom and walk all the way home to Queens as the towers collapsed.

Of course no phone calls were going through, so I sent emails to my parents and kept hitting refresh on my email server until I heard back. My stepdad wrote, “I am safe. This is the worst tragedy to happen in our lifetime.“ It was then that the magnitude of 9/11 hit me. Because my stepdad was never one to exaggerate.

Little did I know how profoundly that day would change our everyday lives, this country, the world.

Little did I know that my stepdad would be diagnosed with cancer and pass away less than three years later.

Or that so many of us who have memories of 9/11 seared into our brains forever would experience another catastrophic event in our lifetime: a once-in-a-century global pandemic.

What I do know now is that we will never be able to control events that shake and shape the world. But we are always in control of how we react.

Other things I know (in my brain, but always need to practice in life):

Comparative suffering is a trap in which nobody wins.

Being present with discomfort is the only way through.

Gratitude is a miracle salve. Apply generously to reopened wounds.

If today feels heavy, let it be heavy and trust that you are strong enough to carry it. If you need help, just ask.

If you are facing a tidal wave of anxiety or grief, stand as tall as you can. Let it wash over you, and know that it cannot bring you down.

Little do we know. This is both comforting and unnerving. Because we can’t know what catastrophes lie ahead. But we also can’t know what joys are in store for us. And there IS joy in store. Even in a burning, drowning, sick world. Because this world is also beautiful, and it’s all we’ve got.

We deserve to feel joy. Without foreboding. Without guilt.

There may be no joy today. And that is ok. Just stay.