It was the best of times, it was the END of times
For the last five years or so, I’ve been one of those people. Those intense people who corner you at a party and try to explain the details of the forthcoming supposed Mayan prophecy. I’ve been obsessed with it since early 2007, and I remember that then, I took great comfort in the fact that it was four and a half years away – at least I had that buffer. But not anymore – it’s no longer as far away as the stars that define it; it’s upon us in a matter of days.
I was that person adamant about emphasizing the difference between this end-of-times scenario and all the others that have come and gone: “It’s not just a prophecy, it’s a cosmic alignment,” I’d say. “Here are all the other global and cosmic Mayan predictions that came true!” And then rattle off a list including global warming, the rise of social fear mongering and the ease of its dissemination, the thinning of the veil of ignorance, and the like. (Sorry I’ve been so annoying, everyone; can I get you a beer?)
The truth is that I am pretty scared of dying – I mean, duh. I’m not paralyzed by the prospect of it by any means, but it’s not exactly something I’m looking forward to. I’m a worrier, and while, obviously, it’s going to happen someday, I don’t exactly want it to happen by the earth collapsing on itself, a wave of hellfire from the sky, or being sucked into a black hole. I spent my earliest years surrounded by actual war. Not the war on drugs or the war on whatever, but actual bomb-dropping war, and frankly, it’s made me a bit anxious.
Not to mention that after decades of turmoil, both inside and out, I’m finally happy, damn it! Can I get a few more years, please?
So given all this information, no one is more shocked than me that now, I’m less anxious, less nervous, and less preachy than ever – even though the “date” (Dec. 21, 2012) is here. I guess I feel like I’ve succumbed. I’ve succumbed to what I’ve always been told by everyone around me: There are some things that we just can’t control. This has always been and likely will always be one of those things. So I’ve come as close to “letting go” as ever. Does anything push us to our limits (both good and bad) like facing the prospect of an end: the end of a relationship, the end of a chapter, the end of the road?
But that being said – something powerful is happening. Of that, I am convinced. I understand that people have always thought this throughout all time: that their time on earth held a special significance, and well, they’d be right. Just like I think that now is incredibly momentous.
I think it’s the time of a full-on awakening. It’s a time to sink or swim – and for the last couple of years, I’ve been witnessing those around me (and those around them and those around those people) doing just that: rising to the challenge or folding like a house of cards. The examples seem to be growing more dramatic, more concrete.
What does it all mean? No one actually knows, because just like death, the truth is only held by those who’ve crossed the threshold, no matter how much we love to speculate.
My hopes, though, are in line with some interpretations of the Mayan calendar’s end: that it will mark a key date for the indefinite transformation – in which humanity will enter a process of great learning and change, and when every individual will be faced with his own behavior. Basically, the entering of “the great room of mirrors.” While it might be a terrible reflection (and in turn, awareness) for some, the truth exists at the bottom of it all, and it has always resulted in progress, hope, and enlightenment. Here’s hoping.
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