Aw, those Mayans and Hopi have me thinking on multiple levels simultaneously once again. Indigenous people are cool like that. But as we dip our toes into the year of 2012, I can’t help but feel plum giddy about getting the rest of my body into the nitty-gritty of living. Bring it on, I say.
Whatever’s around the corner, it will be one heck of an interesting ride. More weather extremes? Don’t tease me. Hostile tensions with other nations? Color me surprised. More politicians fibbing? Not in America, surely. More laws to protect us from ourselves? Call me anxious.
Oh 2012, how you infatuate me. Only five phalanges into this hot tub of consternating karma, and I’m already warmed to my crown chakra. While the sounds of hot bubbles pop and fizzle, I’m going to do my best to remind myself of all the hard work that still lies ahead. No, I’m not going to focus on prolonged droughts. That only makes me tense and kills the aqua-massaging buzz. And no, I’m not going to focus on political elections. That only fogs the mirror. And I’m sure as hell not going to focus on asteroids crashing, bird flu sneezing, or anxiety-filled hyperventilating. After all, I don’t want to pee in this jacuzzi because I’m probably going to need to recycle it as drinking water at some point.
Now, this doesn’t mean I haven’t spent several years preparing for the unexpected. Years experience as a farmer has convinced me to hope for the best, prepare for the worst and expect somewhere in between most years. And while the world we are living in is going through some obvious and somewhat frightening growing pains of rebirth, I’m not going to panic or lose my proverbial togetherness. I’m simply going to do what I did during the birth of my two sons — offer words of encouragement, shout “push!” now and then, comfort and console when needed, inspire and encourage when able…and take plenty of photos during and after. Cause something tells me no matter what does or doesn’t happen in 2012, this is going to be one none of us ever forget.
