Susan Sarandon | Bertram's Blog

Seeing and Being Seen

February 15, 2026 — Pat Bertram

When I watched the videos of people watching the monks walk for peace, I noticed how many had tears in their eyes. I imagine the in-person experience was overwhelming because just watching videos of those terracotta-robed men walking barefoot or wrapped up against the snow and wind was powerful in itself. But I think it was more than that. I think the watchers felt seen.

I bet many bystanders were surprised by that “seeing,” because after all, they stood, sometimes for hours, simply waiting to see the monks go by, but as the monks passed, the walkers looked at their watchers and the watchers were seen. It worked both ways. The monks themselves admitted they felt witnessed, not simply watched as if they were a parade, and it touched them. Hence, the tears from both the walkers and the watchers.

In the movie Shall We Dance, Beverly Clark (Susan Sarandon) says: “We need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet . . . I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things . . . all of it, all of the time, every day. You’re saying ‘Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness.’”

Admittedly, this walk wasn’t a marriage (and a lot of marriages don’t work like Beverly Clark’s anyway). I didn’t mention the quote for the marriage part but for the witnessing part. (Though, in a way, that brief connection between walker and watcher could be construed as a marriage in the sense of a combination of two or more elements, but still, not important to this discussion.)

I think so many of us are hungry to be seen, not simply as a body standing by the side of the road, but as a person, an individual, perhaps as someone who wants to participate in something greater than ourselves. And those wise Buddhist eyes saw. And those bright Buddhist smiles drew everyone into the heart of their mission.

By the time the walkers reached Washington, so much of that “witnessing” aspect of the walk had disappeared. (At least on video. I have no idea what those thousands upon thousands of bystanders experienced.) The crowds were too huge, for one thing, and for another, members of congress showed up, with cops helping them bulldoze their way through the crowd, wanting merely to be seen seeing the monks. (To me, that was the most bizarre part of the whole walk, even more bizarre than the people who followed the monks through several states, heckling them and exhorting them to convert.)

I have a hunch this need to be seen is why the social aspect of the internet is so immense. Or maybe not — too many people hide behind user names and seem more interested in creating havoc than in merely being witnessed, but who knows. It could be why I write this blog, but again, who knows.

What I do know is that for one hundred and twenty days, people saw and were seen, and lives were changed.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Posted in culture, internet, life. Tags: buddhist-monks, mindfulness, peace, Shall We Dance, Susan Sarandon, Susan Sarandon marriage quote, walk for peace, watching the monks walk for peace. 2 Comments »

A Witness to My Life

September 3, 2021 — Pat Bertram

This morning, I cleared away the patch of seven-foot-tall weeds that had been growing unchecked behind a construction rubbish pile in my yard. Having them gone — both the weeds and the rubbish — makes me feel so much better! With the weeds growing like that, it made me feel slovenly, which isn’t at all how I like to think of myself.

I was going to pack it in when the work was finished, because I really did overdo it in my zeal to finish the task, but then clouds came and obscured the sun, and it felt cool enough to do a job I’ve been putting off.

I never considered bindweed a weed — it looks like small morning glories, and is pretty when it covers a field, or even when it entwines itself around the links of a chain-link fence. The problem with the fence is when the season is over, the plant dies back but leaves the vines wrapped around the links. I worked a bit on clearing off the fence the past couple of days, but so much of the weed was still left to clear off, that today, in the coolness, I got out a chair, sat down, and picked and picked and picked all that weed off the fence.

It looked so nice after it was finished, I hoped someone would notice and tell me that they noticed. I felt silly thinking that — I’m not a child, calling to her mother to witness some derring-do, “Lookame, Mommy. Lookame.” And yet . . . it is nice to have our feats noticed, even if they are as trivial as a clean fence. To be honest, I think it’s more than just nice. I think it’s a fundamental need.

Jeff, of course, had been the witness to my life. He gave it meaning by that witnessing. After he died, I used this blog as my witness, writing about grief and all that I went through because of his absence. This witnessing of my grief gave it importance — because of what I wrote, I connected with people in a similar situation, and we helped each other get through each new phase of grief.

I am still using this blog as a witness to my life, telling about all the large and small things that make up my life, but even if I didn’t have this blog, I’d still have a witness: me. I witness my own life. I see what I do. I see the end result of my labor and, in this case, I appreciate the cleared fence.

Incidentally, the lack of tall weeds — or any weeds — by the gray slag and along the other side of the fence is due to my labors at the beginning of the week where I dug up all the waist-high and shoulder-high weeds.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator

Posted in gardening, home, life. Tags: a witness to our life, bindweed, clearing bindweed off a fence, Shall we Dance movie, Susan Sarandon. 7 Comments »

Is the Unwitnessed Life Worth Living?

August 21, 2013 — Pat Bertram

After the death of my life mate/soul mate, I felt that whatever happened to me in the future wouldn’t matter. He had been the witness to my life. He gave it meaning by that witnessing. During these years of grief, I have used this blog as my witness, writing about all that I have been going through. This witnessing of my grief gave it importance — because of what I have written, I’ve connected with people in a similar situation, and we’ve helped each other get through each new phase of grief.

For all these months (years, now!), I’ve been worried about becoming one of those forgotten old women who lives alone in a dingy apartment, with no one to care about and no one to care about her. It’s not an unusual fear — many women in my situation have the same worries, but we go on with our lives and hope that the fates are kind to us somewhere along the way.

The truth is, even if no one witnesses our life, it still has meaning because each of us witnesses our own live. It has meaning because we live it. That forgotten old woman living in her dingy apartment remembers who she is, who she once was, who she hoped to be. She remembers that she once was loved. She remembers that she once had worth. I only hope she knows she is still important because she still is.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.