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Saving my brother's life
I saved my brother's life two years ago. We were at the beach in Nantucket during a family gathering. He went swimming while I set up the blankets for the rest of the family. I got a strange feeling and looked out at the waves. He was far, far out, moving away from the shore in an odd way. Without thinking for another moment, I dropped the beach towels and ran into the surging waves towards him. As I swam closer, I could tell that he was panicking. He was absolutely silent and ghastly pale. Finally I reached him. I saw relief in his eyes. But we were not safe yet. We were both being pulled out by the ripcurrent. The tide was strong. I held him across the chest and hollered "you've got to swim with me." We both kicked and drifted across the tops of the waves. It was slow going because the tide was moving away from shore. I felt my arms grow tired. He was utterly fatigued. He was barely moving, but his head was still above water and he was breathing. I watched him closely and continued to pull him against the current. Eventually we neared the shore. Others came towards us. A young man on a surfboard shouted instructions. Gradually we made our way to shore. I felt a huge sense of relief when my feet touched the bottom. We walked out of the surf together, my brother and I, hugging. He was alive!
I love my brother. I did not consciously seek to rescue him. I just responded to a natural instinct and did what came naturally. Our intuition will guide us if we block out all of the noisy thoughts and mindless chatter. Somehow I knew he was in trouble, and somehow I knew that I must rush to save him. I didn't hestitate or stop to plan. I simply followed my heart. My heart led me to save him.
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Where do they come from? In August of 2003, when I lived in NYC, I got one of those strange feelings. It wasn't the first time, but it was the most profound. It had been raining everyday for a week, which seemed strange enough in the city during the summer. One night, the storm began to leak through my ceiling. For hours, I'd lay on my bed, writing in my journal, thinking, "this is the last thing I need...why me?"
I found it curious how the water would collect into a shape before dripping down. The stain that resulted looked like a gash. I wrote in my journal how it seemed that my ceiling was bleeding, it was almost comforting to watch. No, I wasn't tripping on mushrooms, it was just a period of my life where I over analyzed everything in order to find the metaphors and patterns.
My room was surrounded by these long, red and blue curtains that my friend Hasan had helped me put up. One afternoon, we spent the day...actually he spent the day drilling nails into my ceiling. When he was through, I was so grateful. He had turned my simple room into colorful poetry in motion. I thanked him and gushed some more, while I opened a bottle of wine. I added that when I moved out of this apartment, "the last thing that comes down are these curtains." We made a toast.
Hasan was already in Palestine during that rainy month. He was the last thing on my mind when to my utter surprise, I heard a loud crash behind me replete with thunder and rain. I whipped around in time to watch a row of curtains fall down with my half my ceiling!!! I watched the torrents of rain destroy expensive shoes and handbags. It was dark outside and I was scared. That strange feeling returned and told me that I couldn't live here anymore. The curtains fell and I had to move. I didn't know why and even after the landlord fixed the ceiling, I knew that I couldn't stay. My friends thought I was crazy and I didn't care...but three days later, I wrote in my journal..."I feel that my ceiling falling down in is a metaphor...I'm drowning...caught in a wave...where is my anchor..maybe I don't need one."
A month later, I realized that the very same day that I was writing that journal entry, was the very same day that my friend was drowning half a world away. I beat myself up pretty badly for not making the connection after contemplating that bleeding gash for so long. I know now there was nothing I could have possibly done, but my grief made me feel as though I didn't do enough.
Your incredible story reminded me of this one, Fortune's Fool. I apologize for the length but parallels do exist: sand, currents, instinct, brothers. It's amazing how your body went into auto-pilot and that you knew to follow your heart. I think it's a pity that some people never learn to trust it.
Your brother must be so proud.
Thank You.
Thanks to both Amanda and Fortunes Fool for sharing your stories. When I hear something as amazing at this, it makes me remember... AMAZING
Amazing things happen every day!
Then I wonder, how often do we get to experience this amazement? Could we actually get to experience something amazing everyday, if we just slowed down and paid attention? I believe we could.
I have already had 3 amazing things happen to me today and I am thankful for each and every one of them.
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