It seems disrespectful to write about anything else today. We’ll all go about our business, but it will be there. The knowledge. The memory. The grief that marks any big anniversary of loss. And this is a big one. So, no funny dog story today. Today, I remember …
Exactly ten years ago, I was at a yoga teacher training. We were stretching into a pose, or breathing, or meditating. I don’t recall. What I do remember is some girl with a cell phone screaming about something her husband had just seen on the news. The students, myself included, were annoyed with her for letting her phone ring and interrupting our peace with some current event from the outside world. I didn’t pay attention to her hysterics. We broke for lunch. By the time we returned, we understood. Things would never be the same.
Of all of the stories told to mark the occasion in the recent weeks, I think I’ve been most touched by the “Survivor Tree.” A lone callery pear was the only tree to survive the attack. It was removed to a Bronx nursery where it was nursed back to health and returned to the World Trade Center Memorial Plaza last December. True to my optimistic nature, I embrace this story of strength, hope and renewal.
In the words of fellow yogi, Deepak Chopra, “For me and my family personally, September 11 was a reminder that life is fleeting, impermanent and uncertain. Therefore we must make use of every moment and nurture it with affection, tenderness, beauty, creativity and laughter.”