The Ground Zero Experience

Last week, I was searching the internet for a crystal shop in NYC, and was referred to this website and browsed through it when I read the E-book on developing your Inner Guidance. I have always known I was enlightened by being able to feel other peoples' emotions, but never developed it. So that night I meditated and attempted to elevate myself and after 30 minutes of not seeing anything, I decided I needed more practice. I then fell asleep on the sofa and began to dream.

I'm one who hardly remembers my dreams after I wake, even to be able to document them as they happen the dreams disappear. I find myself as not being able to remember most of my dreams, except for those that seem to create these signs. In this dream, I was in an office for a meeting, which is not unlikely because being a consultant; I am usually in various unfamiliar offices.

As I was walking around the floor and talking to some of the employees, I caught a glimpse of the views from some of their desks. It was then that I knew I was actually in the North Tower of the World Trade Center. At the time I realized this, I remember the shock and the fear I must have been wearing on my face as the employee I was in a conversation with asked if I were okay. (Just writing this is bringing back a flood of emotions)

I knew I was in the North Tower. I knew what day it was. I knew what was about to happen. What I didn't know was what to do. I didn't respond to this employee, instead I went from window to window in my confusion to confirm what I already knew. The feelings became too intense when I realized I actually heard the roaring of the engines of that first plane.

I couldn't handle it. Out of fear, I forced myself out of the dream (which I have only been able to do one or two times in my life). I awoke, saw my living room, and calmed myself down then fell back to sleep finding myeself right back in the North Tower on the 87th floor right after the first plane struck.

Here I was, an outsider, in both physical and spiritual planes, and debating what to do, all the while knowing what was going to happen. I had two choices, use my knowledge to help people get out of the building or let the events take it's course and not upset the natural flow. I chose the latter, not out of selfishness, but out of what I thought was the right decision. I saw people croutched down below their desks. I felt the confusion of everyone in there wondering what just happened, and I left them as I hustled to get out of a place I knew I was not supposed to be.

I found the door to the stairwell and proceeded to rush down the stairs. Now this stairwell was not your typical hi-rise stairwell for some reason. It varied. Some levels were square staircases, others were revolving, some were circular, and some were straight. As I was descending the stairs, there was almost no one in the stairwells at the time besides a couple of buiding maintenance guys fixing the lights, a ladder on one of the floors with two guys working on it, and at one point I hit a waist high rod-iron gate blocking my descent. I jumped over it and it was at this time that I saw the first set of firefighters coming up the stairwells encouraging me to get out as quickly as possible. I must have been on what I perceived to be a floor between 14 and 24.

The next thing I remember was pushing the door out of the stairwell and being encased in the grand lobby of the North Tower, yet it was peaceful, surrounded by light and not rushed at all. After standing there gazing at the structure from inside, I rushed out of the building and sheltered myself around the corner of what I believe was a mobile construction office just off the WTC site. I stopped caught my breath and peered around the corner at the precise time the South Tower collapsed. I was then enveloped by ash and awoke from the dream.

That day I was in pretty much in a shocked state all day, not sharing this experience with anyone. I felt both guilty and proud that I didn't do anything to help save these people. But I also knew this wasn't my call. I was in Boston on September 11, 2001 and only vaguely knew one person who was lost in the attack. All the while in the 6 months I have been in New York I had never had the courage to visit Ground Zero nor had the urge to.

Two days later I decided I was going to find this crystal shop whose address I had as 11 Greenwich Street. I took the subway into Greenwich Village and walked over to Greenwich Street only to find that I was off on the shop's location. I was standing in front of 640 Greenwich Street and headed south to try to find number 11. After a few blocks of walking, I looked up only to realize what once stood in the direction to which I was heading.

I knew I was being guided to Ground Zero. I knew I was being led there. And I knew I needed to go. As I walked down the street, almost everything I looked at was a sign which led me to where I needed to be. I saw footprints heading in my direction, which is strange on a New York City sidewalk.

I approached a street corner just south of Houston Street (where I initially thought Greenwich Street ended), where there was yellow caution tape floating in the wind as it was tied to a street sign. As I approached it and it continued to wave in the wind, and as I got close, it stopped frozen in a direct line south towards the site.

I looked up in the trees where there were plastic bags caught in the branches which all pointed south. I hit "Jay St" a few blocks later in Tribeca and smiled (my name is Jay). I looked up and saw a flag in the distance waving east, yet the flag that was above me was waving south. I was no longer frightened at these signs, but willful and comforted, feeling as though I was leading a parade of spirits to Ground Zero, marching towards our destination.

I turned down Park Place and then onto Church Street and found myself right at the viewing fence to what was the North Tower. I could do nothing but stop and stare off as the sun set and I read every name on the plaque above my head of those lost. I couldn't cry, I couldn't feel anything but gratitude. And all I could think of was saying, "Thank you."

After a standing there in awe of what happened to me in the last few days, my curiosity took a toll on me, and I wanted to continue down Greenwich Street to the crystal shop. As I was now on the southern tip of Manhattan I found 11 Greenwich Street. It was the Department of Motor Vehicles, not a crystal shop. The crystal shop I was looking for was on Greenwich Avenue not Greenwich Street and I have had no urge to go to the shop since then.

I guess sometimes our guides tell us that we need to pay attention to the signs they are showing us but we are sometimes too stubborn to realize it. So they have to show us something big and obvious that they will make sure we will really undestand that they are on our side. Hang in there everyone, your signs are out there, and you will see them when its time. Good luck and Bless you all.