In the wake of 9/11, I repeatedly returned to the same haunting photos and videos on CNN, hoping that, somehow, it would help me make sense of the unfathomable horror that had unfolded in New York City that I knew so well and elsewhere. It was a ritual of sorts, an attempt to process the shock and sorrow that gripped us all.
Yet, after several days of being glued to the television, which was still our primary source of developing news, I reached a point where I had to shut myself off from the constant barrage of those scenes of unimaginable cruelty. It was also the day my emotions broke through the numbness. I cried, triggered by a single image of the falling man.
I withdrew from the ceaseless stream of information and took to the familiar streets of The Hague, where I lived and worked in 2001. Life there seemed basically unchanged. People shopped and sat on terraces, and it felt like time was moving forward again.
There was no "War on Terror" then, no terrorists lurking in the city centers of Europe's grand capitals, no war in Afghanistan, and nobody even thought about war in Iraq. We all knew the world was on the brink of transformation, but none of us could quite grasp the enormity of what lay ahead.
The tragic developments unfolding in the Middle East reached me at a different pace. There was no sudden, seismic event like the Twin Towers collapsing to shake the world in mere seconds, broadcast live to a global audience. But on October 7, it took many hours, even many days, for the full scale of the atrocities committed by Hamas in Israel to become known.
Yet the story of human suffering continues, and with each passing day, the number of innocent lives lost in Gaza climbs as I read the news. I see the deepening polarization of global opinions and how these battles now extend to the media.
I mourn equally for a child lost on one side of the fence as I do for one on the other side. In photographs taken during conflict, I witness the same fear and sorrow mirrored on all faces. They are ordinary people, not different from you and me, who simply yearn to live their lives in peace.
In this conflict, I consciously steer clear of politics, although there is no region in the world where that is more difficult. But too many voices are already venting their perspectives and opinions; mine, far away, has no added value.
Instead, I find myself drawn to the shared humanity that transcends the boundaries of geography and ideology. I dream of better times and respect for principles like proportionality. I hope for solutions and compromise, but I fear we move in the opposite direction, where one nightmare leads to another.
Like those days following 9/11, I needed to step back today. Just hours ago, I sought consolation by walking along the Ottawa River, a place I described to you years ago as the very reason Ottawa came into existence - a confluence of three rivers: the broad Ottawa River, the Gatineau River on the opposite bank, and a bit further downstream, the Rideau River.
There is a small plateau with pillars, information boards, and a roof, where people stop to enjoy a spectacular view, especially in this season because of the magnificent autumn colors.
I'll conclude by sharing some photos I captured during that walk. It may not fit with words written about the Middle East, but I share it as a brief escape to a world far removed from the violence, fear, and grief that engulfed our headlines. Just watch these photos, none of them prize-winning quality; snapshots to take you away from the news cycle for a moment.
This stroll in Canadian autumn is like the walk I took through The Hague after 9/11 and the emotions I experienced in those days; sadness won from anger. I guess that's how my mind processes the news and how it is naturally tuned; it is a luxury for those lucky to be far away. I cannot predict what lies ahead. But I am sure that, many years from now, we will continue to reference this consequential moment in history.
I hope that in this world of division and suffering, we can find a glimmer of hope for a more optimistic future in these moments of reflection and in photos of the beauty around us. Because we can't live without hope.
Of all the Alex Notes, Tweets, posts on The Planet and Patreon I've read and enjoyed, agreed with and learned from over the years, this is the best ever! It is so poignant, comforting and necessary in this troubled world we live in today. Thank you so much for this post at this particular time!
βI mourn equally for a child lost on one side of the fence as I do for one on the other side. In photographs taken during conflict, I witness the same fear and sorrow mirrored on all faces. They are ordinary people, not different from you and me, who simply yearn to live their lives in peace.β
Your words touch me deeply and mirror my own emotions so closely. This is indeed like 9/11 and we are right to understand this tragic event will mark time in our human existence just as 9/11 did. Our global community has been changed with this callous attack and lives on both sides suffer unimaginably. The poignancy of this piece will stay with me a long time I think.
I weep reading your emotional imagery and the memories they revive as well as pain for the present. The grief is incalculable for everyone but especially those suffering in the midst of this horror.
Thank you for the beauty of your walk. It soothes breaking hearts as we grapple to process what we see, read and hear.
And it instills the essential hope to which we must cling to protect our sanity.