Today is Mark’s birthday, so 9-11 means many things to me. And, before it marked one of the most memorable dates in U.S. history, it marked a day when the love of my life came into this world – two months premature, less than 2 lbs., barely alive and fighting to live with every breath. Unlike two of his brothers who entered the world the same way and didn’t make it, he was determined to stick around.
Today, his remarkable spirit is similar to the day he was born. Determined, sure, knowing he’ll make it. This energy I felt when I met him ensured I trusted him even though my mind had no idea why. I could feel that he knew – knew what? I wondered.
In the early morning hours of 9-11-2001, Mark and I were driving home from the east coast of Florida with 9-month-old Chance in tow. I felt tense. Something was off. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but when Mark asked me if we should stop and stay in Shreveport, I said, “No, we need to get home. I don’t know why.”
Normally, Mark, in his determined way, is the one pressing to drive all the way to a destination. But, it was 3 am, and he knew I didn’t like to drive past 1 am. He had driven 12 hours to get to Shreveport. He had wanted to make it at least to near the Texas border before staying somewhere. That night, I could feel something was not right, but could not tell if it was something on the highways or at home. All I knew was that something was saying, “Go home.”
He continued to drive toward our home just north of Dallas, and we pulled up at just past six. I checked the house. Nothing. But the feeling wouldn’t leave me. I tossed and turned as we dropped into bed to sleep. At 8:32 am, we both spontaneously woke up even though we had only slept little more than two hours. Mark stumbled into the living room and flipped on the TV. There it was. The twin towers drilled by airplanes. The first attack happened just a half hour earlier, and by then, the news had broadcast it to the world.
The visual shocked me, yet the feeling matched. We were changed, like everyone else in the U.S., that day.
Since then, I have read many accounts about 9-11. Many intuitive, sensitive people dreamed of planes crashing into skyscrapers. Others reported a deep sense of dread. I didn’t notice the feelings until that night. Before that, I was focused on sno cones and the trailer we had just purchased as part of my initial return to ‘me.’
As we remember 9-11. No doubt we all remember where we were, what happened that morning, who we spoke to. I hope that in the future we all, as a society, will honor the intuitive force that could prevent or perhaps initiate action toward something this heinous. Robert Moss, in his book, The Three “Only” Things: Tapping the Power of Dreams, Coincidence, and Imagination, shares his vision of how we can work as a collective to harness the power of imagination and dreams. Can we return to our intuitive nature that moves with the rhythms of energy? I hope so.
Until then, we will take a moment to remember those who left us that day and the many others who have given their lives since then.