I’m sure we all remember where we were on September 11, 2001, right? We were living in Berkeley at the time. I was home getting ready to go to work when a friend called and said “turn on the TV and look what’s happening to our country”. We had a TV in those days, and I watched in horror as they played the scenes again and again. I think the second tower had just been hit, and the sickening feeling in my chest kicked in. I got on my bike and rode into work. At some point early on I talked to my son, and advised him not to drive out to Malibu to work. Not sure why, just that fear was driving me, and who knew where the terrorists would strike again?I had a meeting with a colleague, a man from Iran. We spent much of the morning together, talking about what had happened. I remember thinking, “How can he be taking care of me, and my fears, when he’s faced, and will continue to face, such hate because he looks Muslim? What about his children?” I don’t remember much about the rest of the day. I think they gave us the choice to go home, or not.Fast forward to now, and the terrorists I worry about are domestic. They come in many guises — some are elected officials committed to terrorizing communities of color with their laws, some are planning violence against our country. They’re a big reason why I make phone calls, text and write postcards.In the meantime, I’m grounded and soothed by nature. The walks I’ve been taking keep me sane, as do the mandalas. 

Dahlia, rosehips, marigolds, sunflower petals, daisy of some sort, and leonides petals

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