9/11. This date impacts all of us in some way or another. We all remember where we were 5 years ago, we all remember the feelings we had as we watched the plane strike the second tower; as we slowly realized exactly what that meant. It’s an image that I certainly will never forget and one I don’t care to relive as the media attempts to make me do so. My memory is enough, thank you.

As I logged in this morning, the news, the blogs, the conversations all seem to revolve around that event. Where were you? What did you do? Did you loose anyone? How did you feel?

I too can tell you at length the horror, the fear, the emotion of that time for me. But I won’t. I have a different message for you today.

The message of my choice. The message of hope, faith, of change.

Most of you know about the things I was afforded as a child to see and witness. I wrote about some of them here. For many people, 9/11 was their first glimpse into the horrors that take place outside of America. For them 9/11 was more disturbing not only for the devastation and lives lost, but because it was the first time their naive sense of security was breached. A reminder that yes, even in America, we are not always safe. For me though, I’ve always known that there is no safe place. I’ve been afforded a glimpse into what other cultures have faced over time and currently.

I was reminded of something different, and it didn’t come on 9/11… it came a year later, when I actually visited Ground Zero.

When I was 15, I made my first trip to Dachau. You can read about the horrific lives and deaths of over 230,000 here. I walked out onto the role call clearing and stood in the place that so many had stood before and I remember distinctly the silence of that place. In the middle of a bustling city, this place was silent. As I stood there, imagining what those souls saw, felt, thought I looked around – straining to hear what they heard and I realized…. there just wasn’t anything to hear for me. It was like the moment I walked through those gates, everything outside of that place ceased to exist. There weren’t even any birds to be heard – almost as though they flew around this horrific place.

That was the impression I was left with – that for each of those souls, life stopped in that yard, in that place. And the horror to which it did. But when did it stop? I’m sure for each person, life ended differently. For some it was at their physical death, but more importantly, when did their soul die? Their hope? When did they lose faith. Because at the heart of it, what use are our physical lives, if we’ve lost hope? When the spirit dies, that is the true sorrow, the true horror.

I spent several years after that studying the process and impact of Nazi Germany. All of the world renowned scholars I had the opportunity to study with all left me with the same impression. As horrific as the human losses experienced by those oppressed by the regime, that loss was merely a step in the bigger goal. The demoralization and destruction of spirit that was desired. When a people stops hoping, trying… that is when true war is won.

That was what I remembered today when I read an entry made by a dear friend of mine (among many others with similar messages). It was post full of fear, regret, what ifs and defeat. THAT breaks my heart. What success a terrorist must have everytime someone is taken back to those moments – reliving the horror, the heartbreak. When such memories obsess our minds and souls and keep us from moving forward, keeping us from doing some thing or going some place. THAT is their success, more than any number of lives lost on 9/11/01. Their success on that day was miniscule to the success achieved evertime another life is kept from it’s hope, it’s potential, it’s living.

The day I visited Ground Zero, I found it eerie in similarities to Dachau. As I stood on the observation deck, I noticed – no birds flying. The deafening stillness of that place hits you like a wall. You start desparately looking for life anywhere to just avoid the reality. The stillness, the solitude is a stark reminder of the sheer horror of what occurred there.

And then you open your eyes, and you hear it, the city. Bustling, moving, loud and cacophonous. The sirens, the people, the sound. No, this place is not stopped. This life goes on. You notice the people walking by, who walk the same street everyday and seemingly have forgotten, moved on, ignored this atrocity.

But have they? I don’t believe so. I just feel that they’ve realized an important lesson that we, the visitor, may not have. This life goes on. You get up each day, placing one foot in front of the other not forgetting on what has happened, but focusing on what will happen.

I think of the people that died that day… those in the towers, on the ground, in the plane, even those commanding and executing the attacks. What did they feel? What did they think? What obsessed them in those last moments? Were they at peace, were they searching for a meaning, terrified at the prospect, or driven to avoid what lie in front of them? Were they, in those last moments, thinking of the what-ifs?

What a brutal reminder that our lives could end at any moment – that the lives of someone we love could end at any moment. That the lives of someone we hate could end at any moment.

In that moment, what would be your last thought? Could you be at peace? Would you know that those in your life knew you loved them? Would they understand what they meant to you? Would you regret any thing that you had the power to change? Would you know you had left a good impact on this world or would you feel sadness at your lack of impact, lack of contribution? Would you be secure in knowing what comes next?

So many things are beyond our control. If given a thought, the what-ifs of things we CAN’T control can quickly take over our thoughts. But there is one thing you CAN control. YOUR life. YOUR choices. You can control what you do now that will be your last thoughts then, no matter when then happens. Your peace in those moments, your joy at a life well lived and not wasted will be a success greater than any terrorist, devastation, or accident will ever have.

There is enough horror in this world to obsess you. So today, as the horror threatens to posess your thoughts, choose instead to turn that fear into purpose.

Make an impact. Contribute to the positive life force around you. Leave a mark. Leave love to all that cross your path.

Leave Life.

Your life is a gift. More precious and full of promise than any other in this world. Take it and use it today. So that no matter what comes tomorrow or the next, you can find peace, not fear.

And just to remind myself, I include my life goals as outlined on my thirtieth birthday:

1. Recognize that the keys are in God’s hands.
2. Love everyone as if it is the last moment I have with them.
3. Value life.
4. Crave experience and learning.
5. Utilize the gifts God has given me.
6. Continue to look for the good in people.
7. Give love freely and with no expectation or confinement.
8. Be responsible.
9. Be a role model
10. Be true to myself.
11. Embrace imperfections.
12. Accept friendship.

13. Wake up each day and ask myself, “What can I do today to appreciate all that God has given me? Run headfirst into this world God has set forth before me and let my children see what it truly means to live. What it truly means to love.”