The End is Near

For 2010, that is. The rest of us should probably continue on as usual. That’s just a suggestion. Why, in some parts of the world, it’s already 2011! And they seem to be doing just fine.

I’m signing off for the rest of the year. See you all in January.

14 thoughts on “The End is Near

  1. Been 2011 here for almost 7 & 1/2 hours. All that’s happened so far is a gigantic BALL OF NUCLEAR FUSION FIRE HAS RISEN OVER THE HORIZON! RUNNN!

  2. I can’t decide if that picture of 2010 is a rug or a cake. Mmm… cake.

    I think I’ll go have supper now.

  3. Wow. Just think. In a few hours, the whole world can say the world will end next year.

    According to the Mayans.

    Who most likely couldn’t be bothered writing another calendar that began 3000 years after the first one was written.

    Oh, well. Doomsday fans can look forward to Apothos in 2029 and again in 2036. After that, you guys are on your own.

  4. I was thinking about the Being Poor essay, that having been the most relevant thing to me for the last two years, and I wanted to say that there was more about Being Poor that I learned from my teenager that seemed to even the scales, if only for a little. That essay is very important to me.

    So, for me, and for anyone else contemplating the philosophy of the human condition among coffee, aspirin, Mimosas, eggs Benedict, Bloody Marys, corned beef and cabbage, family or friends or solitude, whatever the conditions of your particular celebration is today…here is what being poor also means to me.

    Being poor means guessing sometimes at the right way to acknowledge my kid’s holiday birthday, and sometimes getting the balances right among sentimental acknowledgement, what my child prefers, AND realistic gifting.

    Being poor means ruthlessly paring life down to its original layers: surviving, existing, hoping, and noticing when I’m thriving, rather than taking thriving as the natural and inevitable consequence of
    my commitment to excellence and goodness in the form of work, sacrifice, and doing “the right things.” This gets most useful for those moments when someone is dying and I can’t afford the plane ticket, and when people talk easily about which Ivy League school their kid wants to go to.

    Being poor means realizing that “poor” is more likely to be a measure of my greedy neediness about “keeping up with the Joneses” and less about my ability to satisfy my real needs about what I have.

    Being poor means writing a lot of thank-you notes, and getting better at the meaning of gratitude, and seeing the relationship between gratitude and humility.

    Being poor means figuring out what matters most–a reliable car, not a newer car.

    Being poor means defining the difference between attaching inappropriate significance to things that actually don’t matter, and recognizing the importance of things I once thought of as trivial when I thought of them at all.

    Being poor means recognizing when I’m being used as a measure for making insecure people feel superior, and sometimes having the maturity to shrug it off.

    Being poor means creating new possibilities from raw creative material once the situational depression has passed and I’ve adjusted.

    Being poor, as a result, is as temporary as being rich was, and just as fruitful for taking hold of my future.

    May I never forget it.

Comments are closed.