I remember walking into my living room, and feeling afraid and confused at the sight of those burning skyscrapers. I remember getting ready for work, when the marathon coverage was interrupted, and that indescribable, paralyzing devastation that formed in the pit of my stomach. I remember reading the heart wrenching statuses about that bright, charismatic young woman I went to school with, wishing she had reached out to someone she loved before the weight on her shoulders had become too much to bear. Life is fragile.

As much as we may like to think we are the masters of our lives, our jobs, and our relationships, we live in a universe of chaos and unpredictability. It’s natural to feel anxiety and fear when faced with traumatic events. It is important to hold your loved ones close to your heart, follow your gut, and cope the best way you can; however, we must not let fear consume us to the extent that we sacrifice the present. I believe the best way we can cope with the awareness of our own mortality is by living genuinely.

Our time here is so delicate and so precious; we never know with certainty what tomorrow holds. I believe in telling people how you feel about them. I believe in honesty and kindness. If someone is on your mind, don’t be afraid to let them know. Tell your friends how much you value them. We don’t always know who among us is fighting unseen battles; we don’t know who needs to hear how much they are loved. Everything can change in the blink of an eye, and too often our kind words come from behind podiums and pulpits, our feelings expressed too late.

A mentality of brotherhood and generosity often surfaces after tragedies and loss, but over time we always seem to slip back into the status quo; we heal and move forward. We resume our old habits and our old lives — we keep on living. Sadly, though, we tend to lose sight of the importance of that benevolence and unity.