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The following morning I woke up to the news that a plane had flown into one of the World Trade Center towers. An hour later the World Trade Center was no more. My neighbors, new transplants from Manhattan, who have chosen not to burden their lives with television, joined my husband and I in our living room. Soon another friend arrived. Together we watched and attempted to make sense out of the destruction that CNN continually ran and re-ran in front of our eyes. Our shock gave way to grief, and our grief, shared as it was, reminded us of our humanity. We ate together that night. I called my brother, from whom I’ve been estranged for seven years, and told his voice mail that I loved him. I wanted to reach out and embrace everyone I loved, as well as every one of those who had died, and those who had lost the ones they loved. I wanted to weep, but I also wanted to scream hideous, vile things at the perpetrators of such an awful, awful act. I was made giddy by the perceived heroism of the people on flight 93. I felt the guilt of the survivor, safe, for now, in Boulder, Colorado. I anguished for the loved ones of the lost as they maintained what I knew had to be a hopeless vigil. And yet, in the middle of this immense human tragedy, there was something else that was begging me to have a look. And then, as I watched for the hundredth time the collapse of the towers, I got it. The two most potent symbols of a world economy that is based on fear no longer existed, and though I wished with all my heart that human sacrifice had not had to accompany the destruction of these symbols, I also knew that it is only through pain that we humans learn, change, evolve – become better at our core. As I contemplated the symbolic aspects of the loss, an amazing thing began to happen. Though many Americans were angry at the attack on our nation, anger and revenge were not the foremost emotions in our hearts. The foremost emotions were love and compassion for the victims. And the way we showed these feelings of love and compassion was to send money. And we sent it, and are still sending it. And as I watched the numbers rise to 300 million, 500 million, a billion and more, I realized that all of those millions of dollars were sent from the hearts of the people, and that every dollar sent to the families of the victims was imbued with the energy of love. In the midst of this horrible tragedy I could see a glimmer of hope. I saw the embryo of a love-based economy. The change is evident in the people’s expressions of love and caring. I look around and see people appreciating life as a precious gift - something that before September 11th most had forgotten in the constant chase after material possessions and economic security. But this new humane focus of the people must be nurtured and supported to keep it from drowning under the constant barrage of fear and revenge that the government and media are foisting upon us in unprecedented doses. And this is the job of women, because we have the tools to do it. We need to nurture the new era with our feminine wisdom that is based on the experience of raising children and building families, not on fighting for and accumulating wealth and power. The symbols of the old ways are gone and the world is ready for a new focus. We women need to become the champions of a new era of caring and sharing, as we create a new economy based on love, not fear. Terrorism recruits its foot soldiers from the legions of the disenfranchised. To disarm the terrorists we need only to bring the half of the world who lives on less than 2 dollars a day into the embrace of a healthy and balanced, love-based economy. Imagine the possibilities.
Copyright ©1999 - 2007 Barbara Wilder. All rights reserved.
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