I quiet myself down, take deep breaths and listen to my heart beat. Sometimes the world can seem so chaotic, that only breathing can bring me back to the center of who I am. I move my hand down to the middle of my chest, pausing so that I can feel each beat pump into a steady rhythm. My heart is not my own -- it carries the fight and souls of my family who were gassed to their deaths in the Holocaust, separated from loved ones and the world they once trusted. I don't even know all of their names, but they run through my veins.