Pre-Apocalyptic Present

Today little things keep reminding me that life on this planet is precious, extraordinarily so. 

This morning I slept in until 7:30 am when I woke up to the sound of sudden hard rain against the window.  I stumbled out to the kitchen to find the coffee, and my husband was sitting with the cat on the couch, watching an episode of a Discovery tv series called Prehistoric Disasters.  I watched and learned about the effects of a great asteroid strike millions of years ago: instant raging fires, tsunamis, dust and gas blocking out the sun, acid rain, dinosaurs disintegrating and starving, global cooling and global warming, mass extinction. The horror of its devastation seems so distant from my privileged safe spot on the couch with my coffee mug warming my hands and the life-giving water raining from the sky, hitting the rich Oregon soil and releasing the pleasant, throat-filling smell of rain that finds its way to me through the porch screen-door.  I almost forget about it when I begin cooking an egg scramble for our breakfast.  I fill our plates and we eat, digest, move on.

Later I’m at picnic (outdoor-picnic-rained-out-and-turned-into-an-indoor-picnic) and, while I don’t know most of the people at the afternoon soiree, the conversation turns to one of my favorite subjects: stories.  In particular we begin discussing the stories of favorite film selections—tv shows and movies—which is the type of conversation topic that almost anyone has some understanding knowledge or input or connection. Someone said that they didn't care for depressing shows such as the popular The Walking Dead series.  I agree that it is depressing and even difficult to watch, but I mentioned that the story, about a clan of people trying to survive the zombie apocalypse, shows an interesting theme about the turmoil we might face in that situation with our moral standing and our survival instincts clashing.  Someone notices, “It’s a disturbing trend.”  And I realize, yes, YES it is such a potent theme in our society.  We had already discussed the reality tv show Survivor without that context.  We start throwing out other examples like the resurgence of Planet of the Apes and the book-turned-film story by Cormac McCarthy called The Road. I try to imagine myself in a world so torn; it’s difficult and painful and, again, so far away from what I know.  Someone mentions that it’s almost like we make these movies to grovel with the guilt of what we have done to our planet, and that statement hits me pretty hard.

Later when I get home, I look up a list of apocalyptic movies.  I move away from the topic, do some mindless internet surfing, some facebooking, and I see that one of my friends has posted a link to an article titled, “New Study Suggests the World is on the Brink of the Next Great Extinction.”  Yikes.  From earlier today I have the information about some history of past extinctions, the guilt of probably being the cause of it, and now the written suggestion that it’s coming soon.  It’s all a little overwhelming when you really let your thoughts sink into it all.

I think of all the millions of things that could have happened already to end life as we know it.  Swine and Bird flu could have been more deadly, Yellowstone could have spewed molten lava and hot ash across the world, our Sun could explode and vacuum backwards into a black hole.  And somehow are still here. 

Every breath you take is valuable and precious.  But every breath you take is something that you take.  Are you grateful?  Are you conscientious?   We take and we give.  We give and we take.  And we somehow feel that it is ours for the giving and taking. Are you self-aware? Tomorrow is NOT a certain thing.  It sounds so harsh and terrifying, but it’s a good reminder:  Each breath is a gift. Each breath is blessing.  It is so easy to take it for granted. 

I was reminded of that today.  Instead of focusing on the fear of an impending future of dread and doom, I feel empowered to take responsibility for my small part and to remember:

Each breath is an invaluable present.  Unwrap it with zeal.  Re-gifting the good is encouraged.