Practicing mindfulness in times of tragedy

Children were killed in their Connecticut classroom yesterday. There is no way to process this easily, if at all. But today, even if you don’t consider yourself a meditator, perhaps you will devote a period of time to holding the children and adults who were killed, and all those who are left bewildered and heartbroken, including yourself, in the natural open quality of your body, heart, mind, and breath. Here’s what I did during my morning meditation:

I sat down and closed my eyes. I let my mind say “those precious children” slowly, as though the words could ride out on one full exhalation to find more space and be liberated. Then I breathed normally for a few cycles, releasing the tension in my eyes, my jaw, my belly, and my chest. I noticed that I was holding a great deal of tension in the back of my tongue, as though I wanted to say something that I couldn’t speak and that language couldn’t hold. I released the tension in my tongue. It came back. I kept going anyway. “Those precious children....” Breathe.... Release....

Sitting, breathing makes sense when the world doesn't

In this way I connected with a small bit of my own pain, confusion, anger, and powerlessness, at least for a while. In the aftermath of tragedy it’s easier than usual to spin off into story lines about gun control, security in schools, good and evil, and so on. But spinning off can ultimately shut us down, leaving us feeling disconnected from our own hearts and, therefore, unable to fully connect on a heart level with others. 

This is not to say that we shouldn’t think about and address the many issues surrounding a tragedy. But maybe the moments that follow soon after a tragedy are better suited for just feeling. Right now I hear the caw-caw of crows in the trees and the rumble of far-off traffic, and my listening is intent. The world outside my window seems so normal and reliable, yet today it is hard to believe even in bird calls. So for now I sit with the simple breath of my body and listen to the world without, and to the world within.