Right now, the people of Japan are facing the worst disaster of their lifetimes. But around the world, others are facing their own personal meltdowns. During these times of crushing loss, how do we begin to climb out of the hole?

Friends in Japan, we are looking today and we are so moved by who you are -- your instinct to help others through these difficult hours and days.

Watching the devastation first unfold in northern Japan from the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear facility meltdown, I was sad beyond belief. I reached out immediately to see if my friends in Tokyo were OK.

Governments and agencies too often rush to enter the third or Reconstruction Phase that follows a disaster of this magnitude without understanding the consequences of ignoring the deeply held emotional traumas of the local population.

We need to learn skills for coping with our feelings of sadness, anger and terror evoked by tragedies like those in Fukushima, Katrina and Haiti, so that we rise to these occasions rather than collapse into them.

That bumper sticker kept going over and over in my mind: "The best things in life aren't things." And yet, as true as I knew it to be, I still couldn't help but feel somewhat sick to my stomach that most of my things were now in a pile of ash.

The pace of change is quickening exponentially, while our ability to contain it falls further behind. The idea of being in control of everything is being replaced with the recognition that, in truth, we are in control of very little.

In the current critical moment, the Japanese calamity has shown all the world the harsh downside risks of just a few of the societal compromises we've made. In response to this wake-up call, a shift could happen.

Mother Nature today, yesterday the loss of a job, the illness of a friend or the unspeakable violence of someone wielding a gun in Arizona forces us to re-decide where to place our faith and what really matters.

There are some simple steps you can take to become less obsessed with disaster, and yet still be compassionately involved with your fellow man. Doing these things will engage your mind, heart and being in positive, life-affirming ways.

No one chooses to be struck by a natural disaster, and we would never wish it upon another. But when things do happen, might we use them to become stronger?

Can strengthening our connection to the calm, unchanging depths of our being through meditation bring steadiness and resilience in the face of change?

The injuries experienced by the individuals of Japan require not only physical, but psychological, first aid that can help them through what may very well be the most traumatic event of their lives.

I'm in awe when I read about the 50 heroic workers who have been fighting the nuclear meltdown at the Fukushia Daiichi Nuclear Power Station. I wondered what motivated them to give up their lives.

In this wake of the Tsunami, I am struck by the sheer power of nature and the impermanence of everything we hold sacred. How can we stay happy during times of extreme crisis or tragedy?

As I watch these dramas unfold, I am struck once again by the strength and fragility of our human life. If we do not understand the one, we will not truly understand the other.

In the face of disaster in Japan, can we stop our fearful thoughts? Can we even go a step further and maintain a calm state of mind that breeds more calm?