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Remember September 12
by Janet Kato

Plucked from its usual place in time, a single moment becomes powerful, and decisions made therein are life changing. In the Hawaiian Kahili Family tradition of Huna, which is a Polynesian word whose secret meaning is harmony, there is a principle represented by another word called "Manawa" (mah-nah-wah). It means, "Now is the moment of power". It's the moment we decide to change jobs, to buy that expensive car, what to major in at college, what school our children should attend, or with whom we will spend the rest of our lives.

Like the sweep of a second hand, the learning process keeps Father Time company while it fills our lives full of moments. Usually just as unnoticed as seconds ticking, the process of learning is steadfast in our lives, needing the rise or fall of events for us to notice it at all. Father Time delivers these events by the sweep of his sickle, emphasizing new directions the learning process is taking us to.

However, when the sickle strikes heavy and unexpectedly it tends to challenge our definitions of the world. It's the moment when a best friend betrays our trust or we're hurt in an accident, lose a parent, or our savings. It's the moment the flight home is unexpectedly cancelled, and a bustling nation freezes with fear. That's when the learning process takes on a completely different role and abandons its casual partnership with Time to become something else instead . . . the healing process.

There's an anniversary this month I'd like to invite you to recognize with me, and it"s only a day's difference from September 11th . Most of us in the world were not present the moment September 11th became infamous. Television's incessant reminder of it, however, for the sake of hungry audiences repeated the moment exhaustively for us to judge and grieve. To me, grief is like crude oil that seeps its heaviness into pristine, bluegreen waters, making no apologies for its actions as it suffocates life around it. I felt its lethargy creep over my life, trapping my usual positive outlook into its dark folds. For twenty-four hours my world was catapulted into a troubled, boiling sea of details where anyone and everyone's opinions were tossed, including my own.

There"s another principle of Huna I want to share with you called "Ike" (ee-kay), "The world is what you think it is". This is when we take note of how we are thinking about our world and, together with the principle of Manawa, change our lives for the better within that powerful moment when we change our thoughts. But, the circumstances had disengaged my ability to think at all during that day. I was shocked into numbness like everyone else.

Thankfully, the healing process is steadfast too, like time, so one's weary eyes can eventually quiet the last tear of the day and end the persistent need to mutter another rhetorical, "Why?" Sleep eventually came and its curative nature presented another day to me.

September 1 2th hasn"t been heralded at all this past year as being extraordinary. No references to it over and over again as for 9/11. But this is the anniversary I ask you to celebrate with me, bringing to mind the potent remedies that time, healing and the learning process can offer.

On the morning of September 12th our President initiated moments of prayerful silence and all of us stopped whatever we were doing in order to be a part of it. Unlike the morning before, there were more of us in attendance at that particular moment, joined in common purpose, than at any other time in history. Little "me" in my living room became the big "we" around the world, and the washing of familial embraces over every hurting part of me promised to redefine my world.

The wisdom of Ike and Manawa captured the moment for me and held it out tor me as if they had hands. What was being offered to me was a completely healed world, more alive and dynamic than before, and all I had to do was reach out for it. The choice was easy, impelled by the sacrosanct joy of unity.

I learned on September 12th that unity is not elusive from us anymore. Yes, I know we are always connected on a spiritual level, but it was the first time I felt the spirit of humanity as flesh and bone. We are the springs and wheels behind the turning hands of time and events, our lessons . . . and choices. Unified, we become unlimited, where one salty tear melts into a powerful ocean of super consciousness.

Perhaps, dear astrologers, numerologists and all others in the arts of mystic knowledge, you can let everyone know what bright stars, planets and sacred numbers influenced our lives on September 12th as you did for us this past year for 9/11. Inform us, over and over again, of the star-based virtues and energetic persuasiveness 9/12 must have had. Declare them to us over this next year, and remind us of the good we all did that peacefilled moment when Time stood us still.

May the Aloha Spirit bless you and, may your time be filled with moments big enough to hold us all!

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