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I don't know about everyone alse here at DU, but the anniversary 9/11 weighs especially heavily on my mind today. Any way, earlier this morning I pulled one of my all-time favorite books off the bookshelf, "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". As I opened it to re-read it, a quote from the introduction caught my eye; it was written by author Robert Pirsig, after his son Christopher was stabbed to death on a street in San Francisco:
"What had to be seen was that the Chris I missed so badly was not an object, but a pattern, and although that pattern included the flesh and blood of Chris, that was not all there was to it. The pattern was larger than Chris and myself, and related to it in ways that neither of us understood completely and neither of us was in complete control of.
Now Chris's body, which was a part of that larger pattern, was gone. But the larger pattern remained. A huge hole had been torn out of the center of it, and that was what caused all the heartache. The pattern was looking for something to attach to and couldn't find anything."
There were almost 3000 such individual holes torn out of many life patterns that awful Tuesday morning in September, three years ago, in addition to the enormous one that was burnt into our national psyche. Tens of thousands more holes have been torn in the related aftermath, and maybe hundreds of thousands may yet be torn, the way things seem to be going.
We must remember that, by habit, Life wills itself to continue--- this I know firsthand, from bitter experience. We here in the United States are in the miraculous position of being able to choose this November precisely *how* it will continue for us, as a nation. As we do--- as we go about reweaving the patterns of our national life--- might it not be best to put aside the terrifying images and the sheer numbing, unfathomable numbers of dead? Any loss--- every loss--- leaves a profound hole in Life's pattern. That's what happened September 11th, 2001 --- a huge, ragged and bloody hole was torn in the pattern of our nation's life. Now we, as a nation, must collectively decide on just how and where we want its life to go on.
As for myself, I can not choose to fill that hole or reweave the rent that remains in my life with anger, with hatred, with fear or suspicion; the tear in my life's pattern will not be mended with the glue of warm, red blood, nor the void in it filled with the broken and shattered bodies of men, women and children killed in multiple wars fought in distant places. Perpetual war will not bring back the light to that dark place September 11th branded into my soul. Hatred is the poison which created that gaping hole, and therefore I will let that bitter cup pass from me untouched, its contents vile, nauseating and unworthy of the lips of civilized men and women.
May God give this great nation strength and wisdom, that we, its people, may choose wisely what course we take into the future.
'In pacem, requiescat. In nomine Patri, et Filio, et Spiritu Sancti. Amen'
:hi:
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