If you are reading this the Mayan calendar was wrong. We survived.
It’s not the first time.
In 1999, I lived in a small Midwest farming community where a man I knew spent New Year’s Eve standing the roof of his dairy barn clutching a shotgun, ready for Y2K to wonk out world computer systems and spin earth into chaos.
It didn’t. In the morning he came down, had egg on his face and his breakfast plate; and then and milked the cows, just like any other day. He survives today, still milking in that same barn.
Another man grew up without a father because his dad died suddenly at age 44. The son became convinced that family medical history preordained that he too would die by 44. He made self destructive choices and a mess of his life, bitterly waiting for that doomed birthday. It came and went. Now he is 63 and wishing he had spent less time worrying about his demise.
No one knows the hour—peacefully at age 106, in a hospice bed, surrounded by family; or tragically, at age 6, shielded by a teacher in a classroom.
Worlds end every day.
No gun control law, locked door, or survival bunker can change that.
The best we can do is recognize time as a gift and not squander it obsessing about past hurts and future worries or dulling our senses with time sucking drugs like television and Facebook.
Now is the time to do the right thing. Repair a relationship, now. Forgive someone, now. Eat healthy, now. Exercise, now. Make a decision, now. Love and laugh, now.
Living in the moment is the best way to be a doomsday prepper.
It creates beautiful yesterdays to enjoy tomorrow, on the chance that we survive.
Wishing you a blessed Christmas filled with wonderful presents.