All day I’ve been thinking about those who lost loved ones on September 11, 2001. I send them wishes for peace. I honor them by living life fully: treating each day as a gift, feeling and expressing gratitude, living compassionately, being patient with others, never knowing what they might be going through.
I’d like to share something I wrote on 9/14/01, and edited more recently.
Feeling 911
Helicoptor overhead. Each morning I wake and feel a moment of peace before: the helicoptors.
I stiffen.
I’ve gone from shellshocked, to losing myself in my work (assembling online resources for coping, understanding – hoping others may understand better than I), to feeling in a fog.
All throughout I’ve been stiff. I don’t know how to act.
Psychologists say we need to balance our grieving with moving on. They say we can’t come to a standstill entirely. Religious leaders say that if we allow terrorists to keep us from our lives, we allow them victory.
We must be strong, we must keep on keeping on.
But Bill Moyers on PBS mentioned standing still, and ever since it’s all I’ve craved. STILLNESS.
And the nation rushes forward to plan our retaliation, and instead of solace, this brings more violence,
and I cannot digest it. And I do not wish to sound naïve, I know we must strike back, but to hear these people — “my people” — speak of revenge, of killing –
I can understand strategic targets, can understand that some lives may need to be lost to make a statement that can protect us in the future, we cannot just weakly stand by and accept what has happened (what has happened?) —
But a hunger for revenge, a desire to kill – I find this as horrifying as the footage of the World Trade Center, as horrifying as Palestinians dancing and celebrating in the streets.
As revolting.
And then eventually,
The sound of wind brushing through the trees outside my window.
My dog sleeping.
I know it’s temporary, but I savor the relief.
I know it’s temporary, but I savor the relief.
I know it’s temporary, but I savor the relief.