Art, Body & Soul

Peacock & Paisley

A prayer of thankfulness and forgiveness that we are alive and well and that those who died causing tragedy are learning, healing, and working to apologize and repair from the other side of the veil.  May all of us who are here continue to heal and evolve.

Thank you to those who came ahead and told me I would be fine.

Thank you that my dear friends lived even though they stood at the brink of disaster.

May we all from all sides be blessed, well, and happy.

Rest in Peace, 911.


Peacock & Paisley

1 Comment

  1. Heather

    At lunch I watched a PBS special memorial documentary on 9/11. I cried the whole way through. It brought up a lot of feelings that I wasn’t tapping into earlier today. Particularly, telling my sister, who lived in the flight path of the DC crash and so close it wasn’t funny, how to survive in a war zone. Like, get as much water together as you can, all the canned and preserved foods and a can opener, some camping equipment, hopefully a campstove so you can cook foods and boil water, but do all that after you hit the ATM machine and withdraw every single penny of cash you can get your hands on, because once the power goes out, you can’t get a dime from the bank, nor the ATMs. Get in a car with trusted friends and get the f%^& out of the city, because there will be rioting and looting and crazy people and no basic resources and that will ramp up their aggression. Flash lights, batteries, sleeping bag, passport, birth certificate. How do I know all this stuff? Because I lived and worked in a war zone/conflict area. I was lucky; it wasn’t my home. I had a return plane ticket and my passport with me and money at all times, in case I had to walk out of the country in order to catch a plane. It was a much smaller country than the US. I was very very lucky to be able to leave whenever I wanted. I watched a lot of things happening, I experienced some of them personally, it was my job to get people to tell me their stories. Eating grasshoppers and bark and grass to survive and keep their stomachs from eating them from the inside out. A lot of rape and butchering. A lot of craziness.

    What made me cry in the documentary? The sensitivity of the rescue workers and construction workers, the immense feeling for those who had lost loved ones, the miracles, the reverence, the very open acknowledgment of the spirits of the deceased, the love.

    And the spirit visits I had, both before and afterward.

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