I Started at the End of the World and Ended at Always

Even with a concerted effort to stay away from the news, I can’t avoid reading some of the headlines thanks to Facebook’s Trending feature. I wish I could turn the stupid thing off, but they apparently haven’t made it so yet.

Anyway, at the top of this Trending feature is a headline that reads:

EBible Fellowship: Pennsylvania-based Christian Group says World Will End on Oct. 7.

There’s no year attached to the headline—and I refuse to click over no matter how much not knowing is driving me crazy—but I assume they mean 2015. As in October 7, 2015.

As in today.

Oddly enough, given my interest in Gothic literature, serial killers, and other things of the dark-themed, there are few things that seriously creep me out:

  • Deliverance (a great movie, but still…creepy!)
  • Natural Disaster movies
  • Being stuck in an elevator, or anywhere else I can’t readily get out of (I’ve been claustrophobic since I was 4 and got stuck in a McDonald’s bathroom – no joke)

Number one on my list, though, is…

  • The end of the world / an apocalypse of any kind.

This includes zombie apocalypses, which explains why I’m addicted to The Walking Dead (T-minus 5 days and counting…) I think I can watch the show with not getting too freaked out because it’s character driven and far more about how they navigate the new world they’re thrust into, but even if the chances of an actual zombie apocalypse are slim I still feel the urge to start hording supplies. I constantly ask myself how I would react, if put into the same set of circumstances.

But give me a Christian-based apocalypse, and I’m ready to crawl under my bed and hide until it’s over. I’m a Believer, faulty thought I may be and a seriously lapsed churchgoer, and I’m not even sure I believe in an actual Rapture, but still… There’s something unsettling about the world being in a worse spot than it already is.

In my own tangential way of thinking that led to the thought that I’ve forgotten how to be kind to other people. I’ve been so intent on protecting myself emotionally that I automatically assume the worst of other people. It used to be the other way around—I’d always think the best of everyone until they gave me a reason not to. When that changed, I don’t know, but I don’t suppose it’s wholly unusual to reach my age and not be beaten down by life a bit.

Part of this experiment of mine is to consider when and how I was the happiest in my life, when the world was a grand adventure and great things were bound to happen. That was, at least in part, when I could firmly see all the good things in the world and the people around me.

Bottom line: It’s hard to be hopeful and look forward to the good things in life if you can’t see them.

So…

I started the day with this:

But after drafting this post, I’m choosing this:

It doesn’t mean I won’t have to deal with the usual amount of crap life throws at me, but I can choose how I react. I don’t know that I’ll always succeed—as it is, I’m sitting here thinking “how Pollyanna of me” and cringing just the tiniest bit—but living by the idea that happiness makes the world a better place, even if it’s just my own little corner of the world, can’t be all bad.

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