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9-11 Reiki, looking back from today

September 11, 2011

Today, September 10, I do not focus on tasks.  Though ready to respond to rescue calls in town, for my weekend ambulance duty, I am otherwise feeling deep memories and the imminent full moon.  Thinking of loved ones lost, loved ones traumatized — those I honor privately, for now.  Tomorrow I may attend a service; it all depends on how quiet the town is tonight.

For now, I want to honor, and thank from the bottom of my heart, my friends at Spark — — who welcomed me with open arms and hearts, back then in 2003.  They gave me something priceless.

Standing over a massage table, under the gingko tree at the south entrance to Washington Square Park, exactly in the path of the first plane that attacked the North Tower, I held my hands still on the person on the table, letting Reiki do what it does.  It was September 9, or 10th, 2004, 2005 or one of those years that we worked in that park.  They are all the same moment.

It was always beautiful weather for the Spark events — except the last one I attended, when it rained in Chinatown.  Fortunately, our open air venue there had a roof.  Every other year, the sky was clear, sunny and perfect temperature, just as on the day the planes came.  “Out of a clear blue sky…”

Under a clear blue sky, doing Reiki with many others, inviting love up from the Earth and down from the sky, felt like pure joy.  Before the renovation mid-decade, Washington Square Park was a three-ring circus around its central fountain.  There were magic shows, bands on stage, street theater, hacky sack and soccer balls flying, tourists, students, denizens and New Yorkers of all kinds.  In our little corner, under the gingko tree (now gone with the renovations), grew an oasis of deep peace.  As the day passed, crowds would gather three and four deep at the reception table, and would be expertly queued up for their free energy sessions.  The massage tables moved with the sun, following the shade of the gingko, so our clients would not be baked off their tables.  Overflow clients might find a practitioner free to treat them sitting in a chair.  The world rushed by on all sides around our calm pool.  Clients climbed on our tables, put their shoes and valuables under the table, and trusted the healer and the world around them to protect them in all ways.

This park was where my sister saw the first plane fly low overhead and hit the North Tower, where it doomed a long-ago friend on the top floor.  The plane flew south right over Fifth Avenue, no doubt using it as a guide to the tower.  Here I stood, right in line with Fifth Avenue, Reiki hands on twenty to thirty people in two days.  The whole group of us gave deeply relaxing treatments to hundreds of people each year, most of whom had never tried it before.  All of them were grateful for this gift, on this day, in this place.

This was my answer to Bin Laden’s act:  where he chose Death, I chose Love.

This year, 2011, the tenth anniversary of 9-11, Spark could not get a permit to do their work in the parks, I speculate due to the security clampdown.  I have been sad to miss it, this year of all years, but not bitter.  We did a lot of great work for almost a decade.  Thousands felt peace at an anxious time of year.  Spark continues, doing Reiki in many other venues throughout the year.  I continue working on EldersBloom —  many projects for healing are ahead of us.

I think it will be many more years, before I realize the full meaning of the gift they gave me, of healing hands under the gingko tree.


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