9/11 Part Two: Table of Silence/Lincoln Center

Table of Silence/Lincoln Center

On Sunday, September 11, 2016 I was at Lincoln Center early in the morning to see a dance performance (with Mowgli; Lincoln Center Plaza is dog-friendly).  Table of Silence moved me to tears.  Tears are cleansing.

Fifteen years ago, 9/11 became our impromptu house warming.  We had friends and friends of friends over for the first time after we moved to Hell's Kitchen (Clinton).  Because of the chaos and confusion, many could not get home and offices closed.  We sat in the living room and watched the news.  I remember the helplessness and confusion I felt in the days to follow: I could not even donate blood; there were so many donors. I remember being told to go shopping and being angry about it.  Shopping?  Really?  Don't think so.  

Our (new) block was closed off to traffic for weeks.  I remember meeting a friend who wanted to get away from the area (she lived downtown) while I was drawn to it.  I needed to see what had happened - it could have been me or any of us.  I remember the West Side Highway being closed for normal traffic, and me being the only bicyclist on it returning from Ground Zero feeling like the city was being invaded (it was emergency vehicles only that were allowed on it).  In the days to follow we were part of the crowd cheering these vehicles coming from all over and expecting ambulances to drop off survivors at St. Vincent's which no longer exists.  No survivors were dropped off.  More memories flood in as I write this: The cloud over Ground Zero, the special New York Times section.  The teddy bears and flowers at nearby Battery Park, the photos of the many loved ones missing; the therapy dogs.  The lavender bags handed out by a fellow yogini in yoga class with Henry at St. Mark's Place; they had been sent to her by a friend from another state.    

I met with Henry just a few days before the 15th anniversary and we talked about 9/11.  He said he remembered the first class after 9/11 vividly and how he could not speak.  He left town again on 9/11. I lost my job a few months later.  I think it had indirectly something to do with 9/11.  I am not sure any longer, but then again, I believe everything was affected by 9/11.  Then in between 9-5 jobs I signed up for the first ever Sonic Yoga (then a brand new studio in Hell's Kitching) teacher training after having practiced yoga for about 10 years.  I spoke to a puppy owner at the dog run about the time after 9/11.  She mentioned the heaviness and how quiet the city was in the time to follow.  Yes it was so quiet.  And I remember the first time I heard music coming from a car again.  It was on 54th/55th street between 8th Ave and Broadway.  I believe it was months later.  

My tears on Sunday were totally unexpected and lasted only for a few seconds, but they felt good.  Art therapy, and pet therapy (hugging Mowgli), then a friend showed up which was very nice, too. 

How must the survivors have felt and those who lost loved ones.  
My loss was absolutely nothing.  I can not possibly imagine their pain. I am only glad I could help a few of them on Saturday (see 9/11 Part One) 

Blessings, Peace, Imagine.
Namaste,

B.