I'm a practical person. I'm a certified planner, which means I am a bastion of the public process and advise local political leaders and executive staff on decisions, draft legal documents and negotiate development deals, policies, intergovernmental agreements, present cases to public boards and commissions, etc. Infinitely practical, logical, analytical. Therefore, my artistically creative side gets exercised outside of work --through Ki and Ki-Aikido training and teaching, drawing (when I get that rare moment without my son needing my attention...), jewelry design, writing -- heck, I am a veritable mediocre Renaissance man!
Anyway, back to the limb I am about to crawl onto. The week prior to the very dark Tuesday, now known as September 11, 2001, I kept getting this feeling about that day. During my Ki breathing, at work, home, with my son, on the phone with my wife... there was something about the date. I checked my calendar dozens of times... ran through all the dates of my projects and cases.... nothing leapt out at me to tell me about that day. Still I felt uneasy. Like I had forgotten something. Something very important. I wrote it off as a knee jerk reaction to having my wife out of town, very little sleep, working a lot and preparing my fledgling dojo for its first seminar and testing. That didn't help either.
I had several very intense dreams. Ones that literally woke me. Not
out of fright but out of concern. Concern for something I could not
put a finger on. Images that were unclear but clearly disturbing.
This continued until I was feeding my son breakfast and casually
listening to NPR. It was 6:00 AM left hand coast and Arizona time.
Then I heard one of my favorite commentators actually stumble through
his words. Clearly Mr. Bob Edwards of NPR in Washington, DC was
distressed. The second plane had hit. Instantly I start calling my
wife's cell number, trying to reach her. I find her on the third
attempt. She had just started to get the news. Tearful on the
inside, I smile and feed my 13 month old son on the outside, trying to
hold back my mix of rage, horror and shock. Then I took a deep
breath. Exhaled and relaxed. This, for whatever reason, and I now
firmly believe this, is what my body and mind were trying to tell me.
It was something I sensed in my awareness, but I was unable to give
voice to it. It was as though I could touch the darkness of the Ki of
that date a week before. Yet, helplessly, time marched forward to that
day, and unwillingly we all went through it. I only wish I were truly
omnipotent and all powerful. That the feeling I had would have been
something more than just an awful feeling. But, thankfully, everyone
I know personally is safe. I can't imagine what it is like for those
who are not in my position. And I now know
this: I have learned a valuable lesson or two and I pledge the
following to myself:
Matt Spriggs
Peace,
Head Instructor, Yuma Ki-Aikido
See also his message for aikidoka