Usually I’m pretty good at not letting the nasty news of the day get to me. But last week I couldn’t get a certain front-page story out of my mind–and heart and gut.

This was no blockbuster news story. The afternoon paper in our small town (population 21,000) was the only one carrying it prominently. But the report shook me up more than most news stories, probably because it happened about half a mile from my house.

A stranger sexually assaulted and seriously wounded a young woman walking home after a cozy, hillside house party. He then dumped her on a deserted, semi-rural street. A passerby found the young woman the next morning unconscious and close to death from hypothermia.

In friendly, charming Ashland, Oregon, where we pride ourselves on having safe streets and a low crime rate, this news came as a huge shock. And it was followed by aftershocks–reports from three other women of sexual assaults, including one confirmed broad-daylight rape. All occurred within a two-week period.

The morning after I read that original headline, I had trouble quieting my mind during my daily meditation. I kept imagining this innocent young woman strolling downhill toward the center of town, feeling perfectly safe, then waking the next day in Ashland Community Hospital so traumatized that she couldn’t remember anything that had happened. My mind began to fill in the blanks. The horror of the attack burned deep into my belly.

Okay, Ms. Why Worry Guide, I thought to myself, what do you do about this?

I know how I handled such disturbances in the past. I’d store the images and the vulnerable emotions they evoked in a sealed compartment deep inside me. Then I’d shift into mental problem-solving mode. How can I protect myself from such an attack? What can we as a community do about this? That sort of thing.

The only emotions I’d allow myself would be anger and outrage. These hard emotions felt a lot more powerful, and thus more comfortable, than the soft, vulnerable ones I stored away. But, according to studies, anger and other reactive emotions flood the brain and fog cognitive functioning. They aren’t exactly sources of true power.

HOW I DID IT DIFFERENTLY in this case: Although tempted to indulge in rage and blame, I instead let the whole range of emotions surge through me, including fear, heart-sickness and other “softies.” But I didn’t stop there. I turned the emotional clearing process over to the real expert, my body. Our bodies–if we let them, and we act quickly–can detox emotional debris in minutes. All it takes is asking questions and sensing the answers.

Where am I feeling the emotions most strongly?  Oh, in my solar plexus. What exactly are the physical sensations there? Burning. What if I feel into the burning? It softens and spreads. Uh, oh, I’m back imagining the crime scene. Return to the sensations. Now I’m getting angry at the perpetrator and all who prey on women. Feel the anger, then drop into the physical sensations beneath the anger.

Before long, the turmoil in my belly settled, my neck and shoulders began to relax, and my mind cleared. I asked what I might do in response to this upwelling of violence against women in our community. What will generate love, truth and peace rather than fuel hate, lies and violence?

The first response was “Write a blog entry.” Before taking my next action, I’ll sense and clear any emotions that need releasing, then ask and listen again. To be honest, this is not something I always remember to do. Still, it is the best way I know to make sure that whatever I do comes from clarity and compassion, not confusion and fear.

Anything you want to add to this conversation I’ve been having with myself?