Writings by Paulo Coelho

Reflections on 11th September 2001


A year on, each of us can still remember exactly where we were and what we were doing on that day. I was in Munich, ready to go to a book-signing, when the representative from my publisher's knocked on the door of my room:
'Turn on the television! Quick!'
Every channel was showing the same pictures: one of the towers belonging to the World Trade Center in flames, the next plane approaching, a new fire and the collapse of both buildings: the disaster of 11th September 2001. No one will ever forget where they were, what they were doing and who they were with when the terrorist attack occurred.
It is always very hard to accept that a tragedy can, in some way, have positive results. As we gazed in horror at what looked more like a scene from a science fiction movie - the two towers crumbling and carrying thousands of people with them as they fell - we had two immediate responses: first, a sense of impotence and terror in the face of what was happening; second, a sense that the world would never be the same again.
It was with these feelings in my heart that I switched off the TV and headed for the bookstore where the book-signing was, in theory, to take place. I was convinced that no one would be there, since the next few hours were bound to be taken up with more news and more details and with the search for reasons why it had happened. I walked the deserted streets of Munich. Even though it was still only four o'clock in the afternoon, people had congregated in any bars that had radios and televisions turned on, trying to persuade themselves that it was all some kind of dream from which, sooner or later, they would wake up, saying to their friends that the human race does tend to suffer from this kind of recurring nightmare.
To my surprise, when I got to the bookshop, hundreds of readers were waiting for me. They weren't talking to each other, they were silent - it was a silence that came from the depths of their souls, a silence empty of meanings. Gradually, I understood why they were there: at such times, it is good to be with other people, because no one knows what might happen next. Gradually, we all came to realise that it wasn't a nightmare, but something real and palpable, which, from then on, would become part of the history of our civilisation.
That is what I would like to write about at the end of this year of upheavals. The world will never be the same, it's true, but, a year on from that afternoon, is there still a sense that all those people died in vain? Or can something other than death, dust and twisted steel be found beneath the rubble of the World Trade Center?
I believe that the life of every human being is, at some point, touched by tragedy: it could be the destruction of a city, the death of a child, a baseless accusation, an illness that appears without warning and brings with it permanent disability. Life is a constant risk, and anyone who forgets this will be unprepared for the challenges that fate may have in store for us. Whenever we come face to face with that inevitable suffering, we are forced to try and make some sense of what is happening.
However good we are, however well we try to live our lives, tragedies happen. We can blame others, we can find some justification or imagine how different our lives would have been without them, but none of that matters: the tragedy has happened, and that's that. From then on, what we have to do is to look again at our lives, overcome our fear and begin a process of reconstruction.
The first thing we must do when confronted by suffering and insecurity is to accept them. We cannot treat these feelings as if they had nothing to do with us, or transform them into a punishment that satisfies our eternal sense of guilt. In the rubble of the World Trade Center there were people like us, who felt secure or unhappy, fulfilled or still struggling to grow, with a family waiting for them at home or driven to despair by the loneliness of the big city. They were American, English, German, Brazilian, Japanese, people from all corners of the globe, united by the common - and mysterious - fate of finding themselves, at around nine o'clock in the morning, in the same place, a place which, for some, was pleasant and, for others, oppressive. When the two towers collapsed, not only those people died, we all died a little and the whole world grew smaller.
Some years ago, in Japan, a group of people studying Zen Buddhism were gathered together in a house in the country when the caretaker burst in on them, bringing news of a tragedy that had happened nearby: a house had burned down, leaving mother and daughter homeless. One of the female students immediately started a collection to help the family rebuild their house.
Amongst those present was an impoverished writer, and the girl decided not to ask him for any money. 'One moment,' said the writer, when she walked past him. 'I want to give something too.'
He spent a minute setting down on paper what had happened, then placed the sheet of paper in the jar being used as a collecting box. 'I want to give everyone this tragedy, so that we will always remember it when we think of the minor upsets in our own lives.'In the case of the attacks on 11th September, I think we can gain something more than the feeling that, however bad our own life may seem, it is much better than that of many other human beings. However hard it may be to accept what happened, it is important to understand that such moments give us the opportunity to make a radical change in our behaviour.
When faced by a great loss, material, spiritual or psychological, there is no point in trying to recover what has gone. In a sense, a large space has been opened up in our lives, and there it is, empty and waiting to be filled with something new. At the moment of loss, however contradictory this may seem, we are gaining a large slice of freedom. Instead of filling that empty space with pain and bitterness, there are other ways of facing the world.
In the first place, we need to remember the great lessons taught to us by the wise: patience and the certainty that everything in this life is temporary. From that point of view, let us take a new look at our values: if the world is not going to be a safe place again, at least not for many years, then why not take advantage of that sudden change and spend our days doing the things we have always wanted to do, but for which we always lacked the courage, believing that we had to keep to 'a daily routine', that everything was under control? On the morning of 11th September, how many people were in the World Trade Center against their will, following a career that didn't really suit them, doing work they didn't like, simply because it was a safe job and would guarantee them enough money for a pension in their old age?
That event has provoked a great change in the world, and those who were buried beneath the rubble of the two towers did not die in vain. They are making us rethink our own lives and values, and driving us towards the destiny that we always dreamed of for ourselves, but never had the courage to grasp. When the towers collapsed, they dragged down with them dreams and hopes, but they also opened up our own horizons and allowed each of us to reflect upon the meaning of our lives.
So, the moment has come to rebuild not just the Towers, but ourselves; for it is our attitude to what awaits us that will make all the difference. According to a story told about events immediately after the bombing of Dresden, a man was walking past a plot of land covered in rubble when he saw three workmen.
'What are you doing?' he asked.
The first workman turned round and said:
'Can't you see? I'm shifting these stones!'
Dissatisfied with the reply, he spoke to the second workman.
'Can't you see? I'm earning a wage!' came the reply.
Still unclear as to what exactly was going on, the man decided to try one last time. He turned to the third workman and asked him the same question.
'Can't you see?' said the third workman. 'I'm rebuilding a cathedral!'
Although those three workmen were all engaged on the same task, only one had a sense of the real meaning of his life and his work. Let us hope that in the world taking shape before us, each of us will prove able to lift ourselves out from beneath our own emotional rubble and rebuild the cathedral we always dreamed of but never dared to create.

© Translated by Margaret Jull Costa


*Copyright 2003 by Paulo CoelhoAll Rights Reserved