(From 9/11/21.)
An absolutely gorgeous, cloudless September day, just like 20 years ago.
I spent a couple of indescribably serene hours kayaking around the Katama Great Pond with my brother Justen Ahren. There are no pictures, because I didn’t have a cell phone with me, and it was refreshing and necessary to be in those moments without thinking about how to preserve or share them, other than in my mind.
While out there, when Justen and I weren’t discussing everything (as we always do) there were sustained periods of quiet reflection and a genuine joy of being alive; being able to be myself, in this world, at this time. And naturally, there were more than a few thoughts about who we lost and what we lost 20 years ago (and what we lost and continue to lose in the aftermath).
My heart is full for everyone who lost a loved one on 9/11/01, and frankly, my heart is always full for anyone who is in pain, or misses someone they can’t speak to, or who is in a place where they don’t feel lucky to be living. 9/11 simply crystallizes, for me, almost as metaphor, feelings I have all the other days of the year: a compassion for those suffering, those searching for peace.
And just like 20 years ago, I feel the best I can do with my time is to appreciate it, and offer whatever is possible to lighten the load for anyone struggling, out loud or in silence. (If I can do anything to help you, please let me know.)
It’s a day of remembrance, to be sure, but I hope more of us recognize that we should dedicate ourselves to sharing solidarity, –and Love– not only during solemn days that beckon us, like a church service, to offer up thoughts and prayers. Maybe the best way to “never forget” is to always remember that for entirely too many of our brothers and sisters, every day is a struggle, and it might be surprisingly painless to make a small difference.
Peace.
