Last week was a week of silence and noise. Marathon Monday was pandemonium. Multiple blasts plunged the city into panic, countless sirens careened down the streets of Boston, airwaves filled with concerned calls to loved ones, and updates from news networks and police departments saturated our Twitter feeds. Yet, a hush fell over some parts of that day, as many of us found ourselves too shocked and confused to produce the right words. Such is tragedy: It generates an odd combination of disarray and paralysis.

The contrast between quiet and chaos continued as the hellish week stretched on. On Thursday night, my roommates and I stood glued to our window in Wigglesworth as approximately thirty screaming police cars sped past us on Massachusetts Avenue. The next day, a citywide lockdown brought with it empty streets, closed stores, and eerie silence.

Thankfully, I can set a few moments from last week apart from the dichotomy. The chatty, convivial atmosphere on Friday afternoon in Harvard Yard stands out the most. Last Friday was the warmest day of the year thus far, and when I emerged from Annenberg with some friends, we walked back through the yard and saw a solid portion of the freshman class playing games in the grass and enjoying the beautiful weather. We wanted to join in on the fun, so we played touch football and brought blankets out so we could lie down and absorb the warmth of the spring air.

The freshmen in the yard were not ignoring the gravity of current events or pretending that everything was okay. Some of us periodically checked the news on our smart phones. Many of us voiced our anxieties and fears. We did not play in the yard out of ignorance; Instead, we were all acutely aware that what we craved on a scary day like Friday was the company of friends and the spirit of community. There is an intense healing power in companionship.

Throughout this year, I was always concerned about taking enough alone time. I worried that I would lose parts of myself amidst all of the stress and buzz here on campus. I consider myself to be a naturally social person, but I felt the need to prescribe myself chunks of personal time to combat all of the overstimulation I associated with college life. After all, I thought living constantly surrounded by others could not be natural or healthy. In my mind, this assumption no longer holds. Last week’s events led me to the realization that my convictions about personal space were patently false. We all need some “me” time now and then, but quiet is not what I am missing here at school. I need to be engaging even more with those around me. Balance means not only taking time for oneself but also taking time to be human. We really can derive so much strength from each other, and it is a shame not to tap into the power source that sincere communication and time spent with others can provide.

What made playing in Harvard Yard on Friday so important was that it was a true moment of connection for my friends and me. Not once did anyone mention schoolwork. There was no talk of academic stress or extracurricular overload. Instead, we spent our time that afternoon simply being people together. Were we right to ignore the stay-indoors request? The answer is unclear. However, I can say with certainty that there was a magical quality to my Friday afternoon, and we could all use infinitely more of that kind of enriching human interaction in our lives.

One of my beloved roommates always talks about the scientific power of human touch. She rightfully insists that simple acts like handholding and pats on the back can be essential to one’s wellbeing. I experienced this power when I attended Memorial Church service on Sunday morning. I am not particularly religious, but I was especially touched, both physically and emotionally, during one portion of the service. We “passed the peace,” which meant that we embraced or shook hands with those around us and shared the words “Peace be with you.” Indeed, the physical acts of hugs and handshakes were beneficial, and the loving intention behind them was even more heart-warming. Once again, I felt the benefit of human connection that I had previously undervalued.

So, while the end of April may be a little late in the year for resolution making, I have committed to spread my human touch around a little bit more. This doesn’t mean that I am going to go around campus giving people massages (you can ask my roommate for those), but it certainly does mean that I am going to recommit to connection. So, while it might be more convenient to text, I am going to make sure that I call my loved ones so we can hear each other’s voices. And maybe I’ll send more letters so that my friends can see the endearing quality of my atrociously messy handwriting and know that I care about them. And maybe, when I’m having conversations here at school, I’ll try to make sure we talk less about our homework and more about our dreams.

Jenny A. Gathright ’16, a Crimson editorial writer, lives in Wigglesworth Hall.