Eight Years, September
I CARRY THE HARD DARK WEIGHT of that day with me still. But it does not poison me, as the air of NYC did, sending me retching down the street with lungs seizing to expel the tainted air. Nor does it rest, or will it settle into muck, or septic sediment within my soul. That blast of toxin and heat has, instead, lit me on fire and blooms within like a tree of lightning.
THE DAY DEFINITELY SERVED AS A DIVIDING LINE IN MANY WAYS. I had no idea how much or in what ways. But the politicians were right and truthful about at least one thing: Nothing would be the same.
I was living in NYC and had been for about three years, having moved from 1.5 hours north in upstate New York, to Manhattan to attend NYU. It was one of the greatest times of my life.
The attack on the WTC exploded the dream into a million fragments. My entire life seemed to come apart at that moment. The day not only took thousands of lives, but crashed a hole in my storehouse of ideas…
…and brought the vapors of crushed bones, cement, and fuel down like a cloud upon the streets of the city. Ash drifted down from the sky like snowflakes from hell…for days.
The streets were occupied by US Marines. The policing and suspicion were to be a sign of an increasingly scared and violent country.
Our entire view on so many things changed that day. Airplanes, nations, the US…our view on immigrants changed very much, as did our policies. The day, and the fear exploited from it brought us to the disgusting and backward place we are at right now in terms of looking at those from “outside our borders” or even many of those inside our borders.
And the flag that so many of us hung on that day and on the days following it was to be snatched from our collective grasp and wrapped around a murderous philosophy that rolls on to this day. If there is any greater violation I feel, I’m not sure what it is. But in those few days, the flag meant something else entirely to those of us in the city, and I imagine those all around the nation and the world.
Of course one must add that the murderous philosophy and actions had long been going on and many, like myself, just hadn’t really thought enough about it. Hadn’t really counted on the bomb-clawed chickens coming back home.
I carry the hard, dark, weight of that day with me still. But it does not poison me, as the air of NYC did, sending me retching down the street not much longer after I took this shot. Nor does it rest, or will it settle into muck, or septic spiritual sediment. It has, instead, lit me on fire and blooms within like a tree of lightning. The energy has empowered me and agitated me and sent me reading and thinking and for 8 years now has transformed my purpose and commitment to not only enjoy every moment of my life, but to resist all and any forms of oppression and state-motivated destruction while I have breath in my body.
For the record, I do support an investigation into 9/11. A REAL investigation. I don’t care what person thinks they have the right to label my desire for true understanding of what happened. But whatever it was, the People were not told the truth. Nor do I expect Empire to be forthcoming. Empire has its purpose. And I have mine.
Peace. But not before Justice.
Posted in Palabras, September 11
Morning, Nez,
Sometimes, we realize that it was a certain experience in our lives (either personal or collective) that caused us to become more human, less accepting, intensely driven to begin a journey of Truth and Undertanding. And yes, Justice!
Though so much hate and fear, prejudice and sheepiness (is this a word? i don’t think so!)came about after this event, so also did so many of us fully come alive, realizing, “Hey, things may never be the same,” as was being spouted in fearful tones, but “WHAT will not be the same?” And what can we do to ensure that our own souls are not beaten down, but lifted up, for the good of all people, Everywhere.
Thanks, Nez for helping us to see, think, feel, and grow.
I agree…so much is said about what negative changed. But that’s my point, and I try to make it every time I remember this date. I was changed. I had to know, had to understand more about what was going on. And it made me a better person, it shoved me in a direction I feel very grateful to have been set upon.
Thank you, my friend.