I think back to Sunday afternoon when I was delivering baked goods to a friend and preparing for an evening of laughter at an open mic.

I have heard friends recount their afternoon — one celebrating a 99th birthday, another the birth of a new baby, and someone hiking the Sanitas trail with an old friend when suddenly our world changed. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon until it wasn’t.

How many of us were going about our day believing we were safe from a world under siege?

And then in an instant our town became a war-zone with fires burning and lives at risk. It was terror juxtaposed against innocence and ice cream cones. Participants that were peacefully marching in support of the release of Israeli hostages, were violently attacked by an individual throwing makeshift firebombs.

The antisemitic terror attack has left us reeling as we try to find our footing on a fragile foundation with deep fissures we can’t ignore.

None of us are immune from violence, we are all potential victims in a world under fire. It wasn’t just 15 victims in the aftermath, but all of us, Jews and non-Jews, bearing witness. We grieve for those physically and emotionally wounded and for all of us, bearing the scars of being too close to a hometown battlefield.

A syndrome known as “survivor guilt” was first identified in the 1960s, referring to Holocaust survivors who did not perish along with their loved ones and comrades. Depression, anxiety, anger, fear and sadness are all possible symptoms that may develop. By grace, there have been no deaths after Sunday’s attack.

Yet the above symptoms might as well be listed like graffiti on the Boulder Flatirons. Of course there is no realistic basis to feeling guilty about surviving the attack, but how do we feel comfortable with moments of joy in the face of such suffering?

May we laugh when others are crying?

May we taste sweetness when there is so much bitterness in the world?

It is important to understand that appreciating the beauty and joy in life does not mean we do not also carry the grief, sadness, trauma and devastating truth of Sunday’s antisemitic terror.

They are not mutually exclusive. It is a balancing act between carrying both wonder and grief, each one the truth of being alive.

Given the wide array of feelings we all experience, none of them are wrong, even at times our rage.

Anger and rage are justified, but it is how we express it that makes it acceptable and aligns with basic human values of goodness. We may very well carry anger about peacefulness being met with violence, community being met with divisiveness, and equality assaulted by othering. Run For Their Lives participants likely held our personal and universal sadness, confusion, powerlessness and even anger but were able to speak through the beauty of a peaceful silence.

I am a Jew and at 68, I have lost both my parents and my brother. And sometimes I breathe a sigh of relief that they are no longer alive to witness what can feel like daily atrocities. But I also try and imagine what they would say, what all our ancestors would say? I have to believe they would be reassuring.

Unbelievable acts of violence and terror have always existed, and an aspect of our survival is dependent on our ability to deal with loss and grief. Owning our difficult feelings that surface after Sunday’s attack and allowing time to grieve, will strengthen us to survive. We then will be better able to contribute to universal healing. And share our core values of care and goodness toward one another on to generations to come.

May there be no survivor guilt but instead pride in living on as survivors, expressing joy, laughter, and sweet abundance even as we weep, when a Sunday afternoon suddenly darkens under an antisemitic sky.

Priscilla Dann-Courtney may be reached at: priscillacourtney3@gmail.com.