A week has passed. I've returned to the office for a day. I haven't been here since 9/11. I usually only come into the office twice a week and telecommute the other days. I have a feeling it may go to once a week for a while.

The 9/11 tragedy made me take stock recently -- made me think of what was important to me. I thought, if I had been one of the souls lost in that building, would I have felt like I was ready to say goodbye? Did those people say I love you enough to their loved ones up to that point? Did they spend enough time hugging and playing with their children if they had them?

Before Lorenzo was born, I read a book by Mark Epstein titled Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart. It's a Buddhist perspective on wholeness that many spiritual people doing psychotherapy read. That book introduced me to some ideas that were revelatory for me. For some time in my life, I had the inkling that there would be more to life and that I would need to go out to discover it somewhere, somehow. The questions to be answered I thought were, "Why am I here? What is the purpose of my life?" The wondering lingered for a long time. But I discovered I had been looking in the wrong places.

Robin then turned me onto a book by Sharon Salzberg titled, A Heart as Wide as the World. It's a book about mindfulness, compassion and lovingkindness in the spirit of the Buddha. In many ways, discovering my own hidden capacity for love and compassion through this book has awakened in me the ability to live in the moment and to let each moment be filled with compassion for those I touch. We are all so interconnected. I feel this is the greatest way for me to affect peace and compassion globally. And it is from this new found strength that I've been going forward.

After Lorenzo was born and I started working from home, the concept of living in the moment became more real for me. Babies have that affect on adults, I think. It's such a precious gift to be able to experience life vicariously through them and with them in such basic ways. In many ways it is so very hard to be a baby. There is so little control and there is so much discomfort for a long time. But with each day comes new experiences, new discoveries, new moments to enjoy and to learn from. The experiences are so little at times -- the cooling sensation of metal in their mouths and gums and discovering shadows are beautiful ones that I remember. At other times they are so monumental -- the pleasure of discovering forward movement in crawling and the absolute exhiliration of balancing the body to stand for a few seconds were amazing to watch.

These are little gifts that new parents are given. The gift of being present in the moment. There is no greater joy for me right now than this. And in the wake of the terrible tragedy that fell upon the great city that I live in, I am reminded of this gift. And without denying the suffering that exists in this world, I allow the presence of each moment affect to me. And I live with it.