I can't believe it's been six years. Doing the receiving, I wrote 9/11/07 all day long, reminding me of all that's happened over the past six years. Intersecting paths of good intentions, colliding in a whirlwind of disaster and the many miles that I've put beneath me.
I'm still trying to remember if I rode to work that day; I think I did. I would have been staring out the window at my Nighthawk as I heard the news report of one - then two - planes crash in New York. It was already a slow day. It had been getting slow. It was as if our whole country made one big depressing sigh - and then this.
A year later, I found myself attending a memorial service here in San Antonio. Afterwards, I wanted to be by myself for a while, so I took the Nighthawk out south of town, into the evening.
Two years ago, I observed a moment of silence with nearly 2,000 students at a high school named after a local graduate who died at the Pentagon during the 9/11 attacks. A year after that, the respect was gone.
The best I can recall, I've ridden every anniversary of 9/11. It seems everybody knows someone - or knows of someone - who was killed that day. It brought out the best and the worst of our nation. It polarized us when most of us cared very little about that part of the world. And tragically, the people who attacked us cost the lives of many of their own people many times over what they took from us that day. So many innocent people lost over a violent ideology that only fuels its own self-destruction. Some would say that is the definition of evil. All I can think of right now is that it makes me sad. It's tragic all the way around. These antagonists have always been their worst enemy. Their actions brought down death and destruction to everything they ever cared about.
Naturally, I could never understand why they keep fighting. People naturally want peace, though they long for freedom. But something in our own nature - some call it the human condition - disturbs that balance and causes some people to lust after power. Then those that seek peace are killed. Those that preach love are persecuted. Those that extend understanding are beaten.
I will never forget 9/11. I will continue to ride on that day in memory of those that died free, so their sacrifice will not be considered vain. While the wound on our country is no longer a bleeding gash, it's still tender; we cope with it by ignoring the pain it caused. But the pain is a reminder that though we long for peace and prosperity, there are those that would take it from us. It is also a reminder of the terrible power we wield when we come together, united as a nation. It is a wondrous thing to watch our nation heal, and truly breathtaking the power we wield.
As I rode tonight, I could see the stars out in force, no clouds in the sky. I turned the bike off and sat there a bit. The milky way stretched across the sky. All of our struggles pale in comparison to the vastness of what is out there. Humans are tiny specs of dust that reside on the crust of a small planet that orbits a mediocre sun that fades into the background of a galaxy filled with thousands upon thousands of other stars, in a universe filled with thousands upon thousands of galaxies. Are struggles are truly insignificant, cosmically speaking. Yet we are "star stuff." We have a lot more in common than not. If only we could embrace that.
Just before I make my final exit, a large black "something" appears next to the bike in the middle of the road. I ride past it, but my foot kicks it. As I type this I'm icing it down to reduce any potentials swelling. I'm hoping this won't keep me from taking a long ride this fall.
But even if it does, it's a small thing in a big picture.
May a loving peace finally come to this world.
