I was literally – almost asleep – when it hit me.
Tomorrow is the 21st.
Wow.
So here I am, barely awake, the glow of the computer screen the only light in the room, casting its ghostly hues upon my fingers as they dance across the keyboard.
It’s cold, really cold, and I want to curl back under my microfiber blankets – but what if the Mayans were right? What if the world does end tomorrow?
This then, is my last opportunity to say thank you.
Thank you to my beautiful mare who makes every day different, and whose soft nuzzling and welcoming whinny makes my heart smile. Thank you to my cute little mutt who, at this very moment, is curled up on my bed wondering where I am and why I left. Thank you to the man who made my toes curl and taught me the truth – the real truth – of my submissive soul. Thank you to every one of you who has been kind enough to read my musings and my books and post comments. Thank you to those of you whose blogs have shown me that I am not alone – that the craving ache I feel every minute of every day is shared by so many.
When I think of all the blessings in my life, it is truly impossible to say thank enough times, or cover the multitude of those things for which I am so grateful, and about which I could be writing.
I hope we will be here on the 22nd, and in the light of that day I might even feel foolish having done this.
But one of the things I have learned through my little life, is to expect the unexpected.
Until next time – hopefully ….
Maggie
One hour and a half of the 21st of Dec, 2012, is left, give or take a few seconds, or minutes, and counting. We’ll make it, I’m sure as I am not John Carter of Mars. Your spirituality, Maggie Carpenter, magnetic, fathomless, and sincere, will exasperate the so called end of this cycle of existence, into just ~ another day on planet Earth ~ ah yes ~ for which to be boundlessly thankful as usual. Hallelujah!
An hour and 15 minutes now ~ and counting…
Hello Mr. Rawclyde – how kind of you to post such comments. While I did not believe the end of the world would come to pass, the Mayans were a unique people and who are we to say, irrespective of our dazzling technology, that they did not have their own prowess in things about which we are still unaware.
The hoopla however, did give me pause. There is a beautiful, serene, pristine place on our planet called The Cook Islands. It is as pure a habitat as one can find. As we push and struggle and laugh and cry, wandering through the maze of our 21st Century lives, the people of these islands leisurely eat their delicious, pesticide free fruit, smile and dance in the rain, and a traffic jam is three cars slowing for a goat.
Just saying…
Dear Maggie ~ In campaigning for the president in my own little way, I enlisted the entity of St. Joan of Arc, whom I believe should not be taken too lightly. So I read Mark Twain’s book on her, for I was informed along the way some where that he was quite smitten by the saint and that this was his favorite of all the books he wrote although far from the most popular. I enlisted Saint Joan into my campaign as sincerely as I could ~ perhaps tongue in cheek at times but not all the time. It involved creativity, imaginings, and finally prayer. We were trying to capture Arizona for the president but failed. He didn’t really need Arizona. He still doesn’t. Poor poor Arizona… Anyway, Saint Joan of Mars and I have a relationship now, in my head and in my heart. I thought you might enjoy hearing about this.
Just saying…
And whew! We’re still alive!