So...

So, this is the dawning of what many have been pointing to during my life as some kind of hugely important date, December 21, 2012. Apparently, it marks the end of the Mayan calendar, and for some, the potential end of the world.

When I was a teenager, this date sounded so far away and the mention of it could bring about interesting conversations, to which, I have now been exposed to prolifically, ad nauseam, and whose conversational thread no longer holds me spellbound or quivering, ‘the end of the world?!’—well, for some things I certainly hope so, but for many things—well, it depends.

Perhaps this date has been one huge pacifier hanging over our collective heads—if you don’t like what’s going on in this world, well here is a date in the foreseeable future when it’s all going to change! No worries mate, we’re almost there now!

And, I now have children of my own who have lived with this promise all the more importantly because it is coming at a time in their lives when they have yet to live long enough to see the predictions of all societies and their religions, even the historically venerated ones like (fill in the blanks here with any society or religion you particularly resonate with)—that make predictions that don’t apply to anything or anyone. So, what will we all be doing on December 22, 2012? The day after one of the most pointed to dates of hysterical historical imaginatively anticipated culmination?

Well—hopefully… I will be here and you will be there and the world will still be rotating on its axis, or so they tell us, and the sun will still be appearing to come up even though we will be turning toward it, or so they tell us, and the time will be measured five hours ahead and a day behind some of my loved ones in other parts of the world, or so they tell us, and there will be no more and no less water on the planet, or so they tell us, and there will be rates of birth and rates of death, or so they tell us, disasters, or so they tell us, acts of heroism, or so they tell us, plagues, disparate acts by mankind and nature, or so they tell us… So, when will we stop listening, and start creating? Maybe on December 22, 2012, those of us still fortunate or unfortunate to still be here (as it is a subjective worldview for sure), maybe, we will become the new Mayans and create a calendar of our own which designates a time for thinking, and thereby creating how our own worlds (notice the plurality as this is paramount to this conversation with more than one of us) should carry on…instead of listening to ‘others’ about how it is already.

How? Well, if I am still here, I intend to turn off the radio, the television, the computer, the cell phone, the ‘noise’ and bask in the silence of my own mind and meditate on what it is that I can do, think about and focus on to help my world be one I would like to see continue. From that date forward I shall begin to write my own ‘ecosophy’ and take a ‘deep ecological look’ into my own interior space to see what might be lurking. I did not say I would think about what I ‘believe’…as belief is a seriously dangerous thing in an ever changing world and is especially detrimental if you are hoping to locate new possibilities that are paramount to creating anything new. So, to begin with, I will throw out all beliefs and simply start over and replace ‘I believe’ with ‘I think.’ Beliefs are almost always based on ‘what they tell us’ and seldom on what ‘we as creative actors’ might begin to ‘think about’ that can birth heretofore unseen (and, thereby a new) positive action in my world view. I am committed to this action. December 22, 2012 is a Saturday, which might be something of a new Sabbath to be one day out of seven when we devote our lives to ‘simply thinking’ and actively ‘not listening’ to the rest of the world…and, for those who can will it even further…go for it…when you reach seven out of seven…I do believe you will have achieved ENLIGHTENMENT and help bring about ‘the world’ everyone intuits might be a better place than this one. It’s inside all of us; we’ve just been distracted with ‘what they tell us.’ To ask the question my birth father always asked me, ‘Who are they, anyway?’ Okay, Pops, it’s time to think about it! Meanwhile,I don't believe I love you, I KNOW I do.