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.

I Move On

Sitting down and talking to your youngest daughter about her options, post many earthquakes and aftershocks, the divisions between the two descriptive nouns is debatable, as is the difference between a recession and a full blown depression mainly dependent upon which activity is happening to you personally and which activity you are hearing about on the news, the internet or the radio stations. If it’s happening to you it is an earthquake and a full blown depression, if it is happening to another it is an aftershock and a recession, the dynamics are always strongest when in one’s home port.

We are all fxxxed who live in Christchurch in one sense of the word, but in another, we are the most privileged on earth. We get to decide whether to go or stay, and what that looks like solely dependent upon our attitude and not necessarily the environment or immediate opportunities. This is when the spiritual side of a person takes over, there is no external certainty, but internally, we all get to choose, am I happy or sad...do I believe there is more to life than what meets the eye or not?

Well, I do and always have. I have played around with trying to decide upon an absolute version for this and I gave it up for Lent without ever becoming a specific religious affiliation permanently, because there is nothing but impermanence in this world, it is the one major truth, just look at Christchurch, or Sendai, Hiroshima and Nagasaki. KA-BOOM, it all falls down or disintegrates whether it be a natural disaster or a human designed one.

I have to maintain my dignity and integrity if nothing else. What does that look like, and how do I convince those others surrounding me, depending upon me, that now is the time to strike out and start a life somewhere else? I cannot. I can only allow them to make choices of their own and I, myself, must make choices that others may not want to hear, but I shall do, no matter what, because I enjoy living, I really do.

I will not go down with the ship. That is not why I came here, I came here to live.

My options are two. I can go back to the USA where I was born, in the state of Oklahoma where I have many friends and family, or, I can stay somewhere else in New Zealand beside’s Christchurch where I might be able to make a simple living and continue to see the many friends and family I have here. Both options hold family and friend ties, none of which are any more important than any other, they all count. I do not need to be living close to anyone to call them my family and friends; they just are and always will be. I feel no over-riding pressure to move or not move based on family.

Safety is first. And, I definitely do not feel safe in Christchurch, some do, and they have their reasons for such, but me, I feel vulnerable every minute of every day now, not just when the earthquakes and aftershocks happen, but always. I have had enough and I know it, so it is time for me to move on. America or New Zealand?

To move back to America would cost us a lot of money, and, with no guarantee of jobs for either my 64 year old husband, or my 55 year old ‘feminine’ self. Perhaps you think it matters not if I am ‘feminine’, but according to many people all over the world, it counts as another strike against me. I am simply being realistic. I can no longer bat my eyes and wiggle my hips at the same time, I must pick separate days to do either and even then, there is always the possibility my hips have been loaned out to taking care of a grandchild, or two, there are parents gone missing all over this world. It is a reality, too. It definitely feels like a 7.4 when that happens, oh, and with an enormous ‘g’ force that has nothing to do with eroticism, in fact, that doesn’t exist post-traumatic events like earthquakes and full blown depressions, except in the movies.

My youngest daughter cannot think of leaving New Zealand, I honour that choice and I understand it. And, I know that this too may change.

I don’t go to movie theatres anymore, for nine months now, I avoid all contact with large building spaces wherein I might be flattened instantaneously, a thought I have every right to consider post earthquakes, but maybe not pre aftershocks. In other words, those of us here in Christchurch have a whole new way of thinking about everything, and we do, have every right to, just like everyone else all over the world dealing with their own unique collective problems that doesn’t seem to miss anyone. So, what is the trouble?

Nothing is new; it is just part of the process. But, we try to make it seem unprecedented, in order to make a statement. What might that statement be? Perhaps it is something like this:

Look here, I am having an earthquake and a full blown depression, I have to figure out what matters in my life and what doesn’t and consider my options and make decisions and write lists to see what it looks like on paper, in the air, on the sideboard, while I’m taking a bath, when I am relieving myself and when I am driving. Whew, I have to think about this everywhere and all the time as earthquakes and depressions demand that you do something providing you survive them, and I did, so what now? What do I do?

I move on...