Then to read Darius' recapitulation of the Mayan elder's warning.
2012 – the time of possible great change.
Simple eyes to see
Through complexity
Beholding future days
In time past they lay
Flowing time to birth
Between heaven and earth
I am writing in the not-daylight of 6:15 a.m. Kaitlynn breathes in sleep on the makeshift bed on the floor as her grandpa is here to drive back with Katy to begin this time of transition.
The house is going on the market. There is much to do, in spite of all the packing already done. The garage is filling with taped and labelled boxes. Need to keep filling boxes. Take apart my poster board of photographs and scan them and return them to their proper packages.
We go on with daily tasks. Yet I feel the sword of Damocles hanging over six-plus billion heads as heads of state play nuclear games. Will the big nuclear monster be unleashed again? The possibility of massive destruction plays a background tune. The thought of what to do if….
The thought that there will be nothing to do if…
Can Americans put the dogs of war back into their kennels? Can the United States leadership pull back from the brinksmanship taunts —leave the game and choose an honest diplomacy? (That just might be an oxymoronic phrase.)
Is it too much to ask for an ultimate goal of peaceful relationships between all countries and (while I'm asking for the moon, might as well ask for the sun) between all religions?
Why do we give the power to the leaders and leader-wanna-be's who desires are wealth and the power to make people dance to their tunes?
What miracle would it take for the strongest nations in the world to bring a different culture to birth: a culture that lives and breathes cooperation in bringing everyone good health and education and a dignified life?
I get boxes to ship the other items that Katy wished she had room to take, but the Honda Accord was packed to the gills. (Where did that phrase originate, I wonder? Would a fish be filled to the gills, or does it have to do with bushels and pecks? I suspect the latter.)
I look at the things in my room. I've already packed the books from one small bookcase and folded it up and moved it to the garage. I have two more. Simplify for these last months (hopefully, not too many). Keep filling boxes with books. Unloaded the back of my car today at an ARC thrift store. Still have some books to give to the library in the back seat.
I've had this never-robust, lemon-scented geranium since I moved out here. It's not done anything but grow gangly long stems if I don't aciduously pinch the growing tips. And a spider plant that I could live without.
But my boxes of photographs —I could weed for months through those, scanning in the best ones. I will lug them all back with me.
There is so much to be concerned about. Helping Kaitlynn weather being without her mom as she continues school out here for the time being. Hoping that a modicum of common sense infiltrates the brains of the U.S. president and his advisors and the Secretary of "War," as Amy Goodman referred to Donald Rumsfeld. Ruminating on how to describe my own job so that when it comes time to advertise for my replacement, the right person shows up. Wondering just what I will be doing when I do get back to Vermont/New Hampshire.
And learning that my sister-in-law died yesterday after a steady downhill drag from diabetes and a second kidney failure. The realization comes that my oldest brother (her husband) is 69 and will be 70 in April. Our generation in this family has become the age of elders. And all we did was live the time flowing by.
We are flowing into the world around us, with many of us existing in an unknowing of the possibilities, many not caring except to get what they want.
And I wonder what will be in 2013.