09/11/2026
Today is September 11th.
I was in college when the attacks happened. What I saw that day, and what I saw afterward, will sit with me forever.
The anger. The loss. The sorrow. The fear of the unknown.
But something else came out of it.
A country unified.
For a brief period, people were not divided by petty differences. Political identity became less important. Social status became less important. The things that seemed so important on September 10th suddenly seemed very small.
On September 12th, we were one nation. One people.
People looked at a leader who was not overly popular on September 10th and nearly universally came to their feet with resounding support when he said, “I hear you. The rest of the world hears you. And the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon.”
That was a cry for war and vengeance, but it was also something deeper.
It was a country finding its people again.
I have thought about that a lot over the years.
Why do we always seem to return to September 10th instead of staying September 12th?
The conclusion I keep coming back to is that fear can unite people very quickly.
But fear cannot sustain a society.
Connection can.
We have seen this before.
After Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941, fear, grief, and a direct threat to the nation brought Americans together with an extraordinary sense of common purpose. People mobilized around something larger than themselves because survival, freedom, and national identity suddenly mattered more than the divisions that existed the day before.
September 11th did something similar.
It reminded us, however painfully, that when fear strips everything else away, we remember who our people are.
As wealth accumulated, technology advanced, political division increased, and the pressure to keep up with everybody else grew, we moved further away from the true sense of community that human beings have depended on for thousands of years.
I have traveled extensively around the world, and some of the happiest people I have encountered have had far less materially than we do.
But poverty itself was not the common denominator.
Community was.
In parts of Italy, you still see men and women sitting together at night, playing cards, eating, talking, laughing, and actually knowing the people around them.
Nobody is staring at a screen pretending to be somewhere else.
They are there.
Present.
Interested in one another.
I saw this firsthand when I visited Sicily.
In some of these small communities, abandoned homes have been sold for almost nothing, and people from different places have moved in and begun rebuilding not only the homes, but the communities themselves.
What struck me was not the houses.
It was what happened between the people.
They began knowing one another.
Helping one another.
Eating together.
Talking.
Looking after the community because they had become part of it.
That is what I think we have lost.
We have more ways to communicate than at any other point in human history, yet many people feel less connected than ever.
Technology gave us access to everyone and somehow distracted us from the person sitting next to us.
We live in a culture of the next best thing.
The next house.
The next car.
The next vacation.
The next achievement.
The next body we are supposed to look like.
The next life we are supposed to envy.
We spend enormous amounts of time looking at the curated lives of people we do not know while knowing very little about what the person living three houses away is going through.
We know what strangers ate for dinner.
We know where celebrities went on vacation.
We know what someone we have not seen since high school thinks about politics.
But sometimes we do not know that our neighbor is struggling.
That their spouse is sick.
That their child is having a difficult time.
That they are lonely.
That they simply need somebody to ask how they are doing.
We in America have done so well that the pressure to keep up with the status quo may have overtaken one of our most basic human needs.
Connection.
We need one another.
And I think one of the most important lessons of September 11th is that when fear strips everything else away, we remember that.
When our basic survival is questioned, our brains retreat to the group.
On September 11th, that group became America.
Suddenly the things that divided us mattered less than the thing that connected us.
We were Americans.
Together.
But why should fear be required to remind us of that?
Why should tragedy be the thing that makes us notice our neighbors again?
Why should we need an enemy before we remember that we are on the same side?
This is not really a history post.
It is a history of us post.
And maybe it is also a warning.
A great nation cannot survive indefinitely if its people can only find commonality when they are afraid.
Fear can unite us.
Connection can empower us.
Community can sustain us.
And rebuilding that does not start in Washington.
It starts much closer to home.
Talk to your neighbor.
Sit with people.
Eat together.
Play cards.
Join something in your community.
Put the phone down.
Ask somebody how they are doing and actually listen to the answer.
Go somewhere social even when you do not feel like going.
Help someone who cannot do anything for you in return.
Human beings are biologically social creatures.
Sometimes the best antidepressant can be an act of kindness, a thoughtful gesture, or a selfless act.
On this September 11th, we remember.
We should.
But we cannot change what happened.
The only useful reason to keep looking into the past is to learn something that changes what we do next.
What September 11th taught us is that we are extraordinarily powerful when we are together.
The question is whether we can learn to become that people without first having to be afraid.
Those of us who remember September 12th remember what that felt like.
We long for it.
But maybe the goal should not be to recreate September 12th.
Maybe the goal should be to build something even better.
A country that does not need tragedy to remember that we belong to one another.
And perhaps it starts with something remarkably simple.
Look to your left.
Look to your right.
There is another human being there.
Say hello.
Daniel Breeyear MSN, APRN, PMHNP-BC, FMHC
Owner/Director of care
The Eden Center for Integrative Care