Being Present in the Midst of Tragedy

Yesterday a dear friend of mine experienced a tragedy and today she is grieving.

And I am grieving with her.

My heart aches for her pain, for the pain of her children.

After hearing of the news I couldn't help but cry. At the first chance I had, I found a quiet secluded place and I cried. I cried for her, for this tragedy, for her kids, for all of it. It was heavy. It still is heavy and my heart is still uncomfortable and unsure of how to take it in.

But maybe being present doesn't mean you have to figure it out. Maybe being present is sometimes messy and hard and confusing and angry and sad. And it doesn't end with a solution, rather it continues and goes on.

Because tragedy is an ocean. It's way bigger than any of us and it often makes no sense. It chooses it's own movements and rarely gives us warning.

But here we are, in this ocean, regardless of how we got here. Today I am present in the water with my friend.