Sunday, October 2, 2011

What if the World Ends This Month

What if the World Ends This Month?  

It's hard to imagine that something that's been around for 4.5 billion years is goingto suddenly cease to exist this month. Especially on a specific date this month. And certainly, if not this month, then surely on December 21, 2012. Hundreds of internet stories, channelings, and/or prophecies, make it sound like the end is quite near.  
Biblical passages are interpreted according to Armageddon beliefs, conspiracy theories are created to support a point of view, or the visible evidence of mother nature's wrath confirms the statement, See, we told you so!  Actually, with conditions on the planet seemingly so awful on every front, a huge shakeup just might be welcomed news all around.  But, I digress. 
Things reached a fever pitch this year after a Comet named Elenin, entered our solar system in December 2010. Comets, are "dirty snowballs" primarily made up of loosely packed ice and dust. There are 4,185 identified comets in our solar system. Yet, why Comet Elenin's arrival caused such a big stir can only be attributed to the atmosphere of fear that prevails on our planet, which leaves most people feeling impotent.
It is claimed that Elenin will bring cataclysm to the planet such as we've not seen since Atlantis or Lemuria sank. Theories abound that Elenin's proximity to earth will cause a pole shift that will be preceded by three days of darkness. A recent website proclaimed with much certitude that a series of "pre-cataclysms" would occur between mid-August and September 5th. As soon as those dates passed without incident the website removed the dates and issued an update that the cataclysm had been replaced by "relatively small disasters" so that civilization could continue.
In the spirit of thoughtful discourse about the end times I did a little research. It seems that Comet Elenin will make its closest approach to earth on October 16th. For those who say it will create three days of darkness, that doesn't appear to be possible. Seen from the earth, the comet will not cross the face of the sun. Even if it did, the comet is but 2-3 miles across in size while the sun is 865,000 miles in diameter. For a comet of 2-3 miles in diameter to darken the sun (as in an eclipse) it would have to be 250 miles above the earth. This one is 22 million miles away.
Let's compare Elenin to the "Great Comet" Hale-Bopp which entered the solar system in 1997. It was visible to the naked eye for 18 months and seen by most people on earth. Hale-Bopp was estimated to be 25 miles in diameter. Yet what effect did it have on the planet? Yes, there were significant blizzards and then flooding in north America, but that was attributed to climate change, not the comet. There were other events that occurred in 1997 that had a much larger impact on humanity. Focusing on world events, 120 countries signed an agreement to eliminate land mines; the UN prohibition on Chemical Weapons went into effect; 150 countries signed the Kyoto Protocol on global warming; Britain gave Hong Kong back to China. If those events were influenced by Comet Hale-Bopp then I personally look forward to the arrival of little Elenin.
But if, (and that's a big IF) it should do what others suggest and the world does come to an end this month, what would you do? You've got twenty-eight days to live! How would you live those 28 days? What would you do different than you do now in your daily life? Would you head for high ground? So where would you go and what would you do?
Here's what I would do. To start, I wouldn't go anywhere for if the poles shift there is no high ground.  I also recognize that the earth is always in a state of releasing and purifying herself so perhaps this cleansing is long overdue. I also believe that our time in physical form is of a much shorter duration than our time in spirit form and it is to that spirit I would be returning. Therefore, I'd continue to look for the good in all while holding a vision of more enlightened ones returning to earth in a future time.    

On a practical level, I'd talk every day with close friends, loved ones, or family, sharing our life stories, holding each other close and affirming love and kindness.  I'd go for walks in the morning and evening, catching breathtaking sunrises and sunsets that always make me feel closer to spirit.  Last, I'd light a candle, a stick of incense, sit down in meditation and wait. I'd do that all month until Elenin arrives.  Come to think of it, this is what I do every day!  So for me, this month won't be any different. What about you?  Om shanti, shanti, shanti!  

ADDENDUM:  It seems Comet Elenin, made up of dust and ice, was felled by the sun's heat in late September.  A massive solar flare reduced it's size, visibility and impact.  The comet is all but forgotten.  Until the next fearful thing consumes our collective psyche.  

Jo Mooy - October, 2011


Leaving an Impression 

At 8:30 every morning he ambled past my window always wearing the same outfit -navy blue shorts, pockets bulging with dog treats, a white golf shirt, white sneakers with long white socks, a white baseball cap and oversized sunglasses. He was well-known throughout the neighborhood as "the guy with the dog biscuits" or "the guy who picked up the newspapers" or "the guy who carried in the trash-cans."

He made an impression on us because he always wore a big smile and he knew everybody by first name. He always had a kind word or comment whenever he saw you. When the garbage men left the trash cans and lids in the middle of the street he picked up each one and walked it to the garage door. When the newspapers were tossed onto the driveways he'd pick them up and place them at the door. If you went for a walk and there were no newspapers in anyone's driveway you knew he'd already gone by. He knew who was traveling, who was ill, or who was visiting. He inquired if there was a strange car in your driveway for more days than it should have been. Yet, his "knowing" was never intrusive. Rather, it was a gentle caring about his neighbors and a genuine interest in all the people he met on his daily walks.

But his most special affection was for all the dogs in our housing community. He knew every dog by name and they knew him. Dogs who never wanted to be petted by other than their owners would wait patiently or plant themselves on the sidewalk waiting for him to bring their doggie treats. My own dog would sit at his street corner waiting for him in the morning. When she had to be put on a special diet, he purchased the biscuits the vet required for her.

Their daily ritual continued for several years until the day she died. On that day she was too weary to get up. But somehow her instincts told her he was coming down the street. She went to the door to be let out. In a final burst of energy she hurrieddown the walkway to see him and in retrospect, to say goodbye. She died a few hours after that. When he learned of her death he cried with us sharing the grief.

I knew him by his daily walks, his kind acts, and his love of the neighborhood dogs. I knew he served the housing association through volunteer groups. I knew he was a veteran, but based on his youthful appearance assumed he served in Korea or Viet Nam. I knew his wife and knew he had an adult daughter.

At 8:30 on a recent Wednesday morning he was walking ahead of me as I was riding my bike along the paved trails in our subdivision. I yelled out "Good morning, Robbie!" so as not to startle him. He stopped and waved as I pedaled past him. It was the last time I saw him alive. Thirty minutes later he was pronounced dead by paramedics after suffering a massive heart attack in the community clubhouse where he'd gone to lift weights.

Looking back on the five years that our lives intersected I thought about all the times we'd spent talking about dogs and I asked myself, why I never asked him about his life. In his passing I learned so much about him. He was not in his early 70's as I'd assumed but rather was 84 years old. He was about to celebrate his 63rdwedding anniversary. He was a gifted musician playing the piano and organ. He traveled all over the world, living in many countries demanded of his job in the oil industry. There he made long-lasting friends as easily as he had done in our neighborhood. He'd made such an impression that letters from those friends still living in far-off lands filled the church's condolences box.

But what stood out the most was how he befriended young people, encouraging them to be better than they were, to take responsibility, to go to college and to become good people. One young woman who followed his explicit guidance, a budding operatic marvel, sang his funeral service. A young man that he befriended 25 years earlier wrote a touching tribute about him and how much he owed to Robbie's counseling.

It's said no one knows the day or the hour of our death. That's probably a good thing because it allows us to wake up greeting each day as a new beginning and giving us a fresh slate to write upon. Robbie's passing did that for me. I realized that this seemingly quiet man had actually left a huge impression on everyone he'd encountered during his lifetime. He didn't have a big pulpit to preach from, nor did he have a cause with a following. He simply cared about everyone he met and treated them kindly. And that can be contagious.

Robbie's death has caused me to think about my life and how I conduct myself andto make some small changes. Now, I slow down on those bike rides, stopping to inquire about a neighbor's well-being, or to ask the questions like "Where do you call home?" "Do you have a family?" "How are you feeling today?" And yes, even sometimes I take a few moments to pick up the trash cans.

I miss Robbie's physical presence as much as the dogs do. Sometimes I glance up from my computer and I catch a glimpse of him in his navy blue shorts and white baseball cap, his pockets bulging with dog treats as he ambles past my window. I know I'm seeing the impression he left on the streets of this retirement community just like the one he left in so many hearts. His daily routine created such an impression in people's lives that they remembered him by his random acts of kindness. His was a life well-lived.  Is there a better legacy to leave in this world than to know you touched lives this way?   

SIDE NOTE: Two days ago while working in the garage with the door open I felt the unmistakable presence of Robbie ambling down the street.  The feeling was so powerful I turned around to look for him.  I was convinced he was standing in the driveway saying "Good morning, Jo."  Of course, he was not.  But his impression surely was as he continues to walk the neighborhood! 

Jo Mooy - September, 2011