
You can find dozens of books and hundreds of websites devoted to explaining what the Mayan calendar ending on that date means. I have no idea what will happen that day — polar shifts and tsunamis, alien attacks, the return of Jesus, the Armageddon War, or Freemasons finally agreeing on what kind of barbecue sauce is best. Or it could be just like any other day, like Y2K, January 1, 2000 was.
I'm reminded of a cartoon I once saw depicting a loin-clothed stonemason, hammer and chisel in hand, standing in front of the rock the Mayan calendar is etched into.
An onlooker asks him, "Why does the calendar end on that date?"
"I ran out of room."
We're all going to run out of room one day.
None of us has a personal countdown timer. Our last day could be today, tomorrow, or 50 or even 100 years from now.
We have no guarantees. No one knows when the Reaper will come.
Saints and sages have given advice. "Live Like You Were Dying" was a popular country song by Tim McGraw. Jesus urged us not to worry about tomorrow. Eckhart Tolle suggests that anything other than living in the Now is insane. And Bro. Mark Twain wrote, "Sing like nobody's listening, dance like nobody's watching, love like you've never been hurt, and live like it's heaven on earth."
Somewhere in there is a message: Live like there is no tomorrow. Seize the day. Stop and smell the roses.
It will be Christmas 2012 before you know it.
Or not.
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