...Till the End of Time

Which is tomorrow, if our Mayan friends are to be believed.

Of course, not really. The actual translation is "end of the age" meaning a NEW age is coming.

But lets just consider the alternative for a sec.

Because a lot of folks are actually preparing for the End of the World, be it financial collapse, terrorist attack, EMP, meteor, zombies...whatever.

All very serious stuff (except the zombies- that's just stoopid) and so the SERIOUS preppers tend to be really...serious.

Seriously.

They hoard the food and dig the shelters and plan for a really lackluster grueling existence after _________________________ happens. I guess their theory is at least they'll still be alive.

Here's what I think, and what I was thinking about over a glorious weekend in October.

We were at a 'homesteaders' reunion- some 15 or so of us from all over the country. A small group, to be sure. Cozy, if you will.

The surroundings were idyllic, the weather perfection.

Ah, but the company.

Every one of us knows how to grow stuff, how to cook stuff over a fire. Most of us know how to kill and prepare meat. We're all frugal as all get-out and generous to a fault. No knowledge is secret and the more who know how to do shit the better it is for everyone.

We're all more than passable campers not as a test of how tough we are, but because it's a way to be closer to Mother Nature.

Not a one of us is too good to pee in an outhouse.

Some do not own weapons, some own and use guns and some are adept at all sorts of scary shit...yet I trust the life of my family with each and every one of them.

We have several honeybee whisperers.

More than a few are really gifted vintners.

There was music being played on guitars, banjos and dulcimers, a belt-busting array of homemade from scratch food (not an MRE in sight), and absolutely never-ending laughter.

Not because of the wine, or because we're all blooming idiots who have no idea how horrifyingly dangerous the world is or how genuinely fucked up society is.

But because we know. We're not God's golden children. I'd wager that every single one of us has been kicked in the teeth by life more than a few times- some pretty severely.

We know that just the act of being alive isn't enough.

That it's not bravery to sequester yourself away from everyone and everything in some desperate attempt at security.

The truly brave don't push away because they might get hurt or worse.

The truly brave face the world and welcome it in.

They don't hide behind God, or fear, or prejudice.

This is OUR world, and we will not be afraid in it.

In my mind I hear the music, and the birds, feel the soft autumn breeze, smell the coffee and the breakfast being made, can see each truly beloved face on the long wooden porch, mentally add the rest of my family and every single homesteader we've met from Canada to Mexico and LA to DC (it's a REALLY big porch- for real) and I know-

These are the people I want to spend the end of the world with.