I spent a good deal of yesterday immersed in reminders of September 11, 2001. It was self-inflicted. Each year I either abstain or answer an emotional need to relive some of it. Sometimes it feels good to allow myself to feel until it almost sears my insides.
Simultaneously, with a column deadline looming, I also felt a bit blocked artistically. So I did what I always do when that happens — I walked to my ‘backyard’ better known as the Hudson River waterfront. I sat down, took in the atmosphere, went deep into my head. When I got home, it all came out on the page.
Today’s Game Plan: With Gratitude to Our Protectors