What’s the Buzz? It’s the End of the World- again.

Fri, 07/27/2018 - 6:30pm

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About this blog:

  • Photographing President Obama

    What's the Buzz" covers what's happening, what might be happening, and what should be happening in the opinion of the author.

    Eleanor Cade Busby is an unpublished award-winning writer, photographer and blogger & simply loves writing about herself in third person.She published this absolutely all true bio.

    Busby grew up all over New England,a preacher's kid who set out to destroy every single stereotype about a "Minister's Daughter."

    She attended Goddard College, The Rhode Island Conservatory of Music and The School of Life, majoring in everything she could stuff into her head. She once had her own office and a red stapler. Her employees learned quickly never to touch it.

    Much of her very long life has been spent on or back-stage at theaters. She penned a couple of plays, directed many more and acted in scores of productions. She's done it all except hanging lighting. You can't make her climb a ladder.

    She won awards locally & nationally for social services and customer care. Most recently she was awarded the PEN/Toni and James C. Goodale Freedom of Expression Courage Award along with 3 million of her closest personal friends for "galvanizing a potent global movement to resist infringements on the rights and dignity of women and many other groups."

    Busby has been a theater, art and dance reviewer and commentator for several publications, including CRACKED magazine.

    Opinionated, obstinate, much-abused, and under-appreciated, she believes that if it isn't funny or relevant, it isn't worth it.

    Eleanor Cade Busby lives in Midcoast Maine with two cats who like to stand on her head at 3 AM demanding a sacrifice, often her sanity.

    Suggestions for topics and comments are always welcome at eleanorcadebusby@hotmail.com

It seems the world is ending again. It does this every so often, whether or not we notice.  Sometimes there is a big fuss and several extremist groups leave their worldly goods and head for a mountain or the sea to wait for the mother ship to show up. Sometimes, it is the Rapture and one might expect to find the neighbors waving as you rise, or that you will be standing down below plotting into which mansion you should move. It could be a comet and a close fly-by or just the end of your own little part of this. That seems the most likely, doesn’t it? 

Whatever you believe, whether it is in a religion or in the power of the wind or the sound of the surf, the end is as illusory as the beginning. Both are things we won’t remember or be able to share. 

Here are a few thoughts from my son, Nathan Hinds, who tends to think thoughts that most of us never give the room to grow. 

 From Nate: 

“Isn't it silly to believe in illusions? I mean, why would you? There's nothing to gain and everything to lose yet people continue to cling to illusions because of familiarity and that brings a hollow comfort. It's the end of the world, so maybe now's the right moment for a little truth.

Stop casually ignoring wisdom. In fact. Stop. All of it. Everything. Stop, stand stock still, and breathe. Once you're becalmed and able to feel the rise and fall of the world around you, stay still and listen to what I'm about to say. 

Everything you need to know to understand how it all works can be found in a handful of sand. From how things are constructed, atom to skyscraper, it's all right there. Even ephemera can be found there, like why we can't travel backward in time. 

Contained in those grains is you, your dog, your house, and the seed from which everything man has ever thought springs. It is a mausoleum, a memento mori, of eons long pass from memory. It holds the remains of ancestors and their empires as much as it holds the remains of the earth itself. 

We spend so much time shuffling our feet instead of sitting in the dirt, so much of our lives spent in transit instead of engaged. We can pass by a park a thousand times and never notice how deep the green is just past the trees at the edge. We can march ourselves from bed to bureau without a moments pause, having cut every spare second out of the day to make it in 'time'.

Plant your bare feet in the good earth. No, really. Dig a hole and put soil over your feet. If you rush from here to there and can remember nothing of the moments in between, you're as alive now as you will be when that soil covers the box your body is in if you do not begin the process of unraveling the machinery designed to keep you in motion but not living along the way. 

Take a few moments as the stars do their eternal dance to join them. Stand in the wind, close your eyes, and just breathe. Walk in 'deep' places where the echo of your heat beat can be heard. Dip your feet into free waters and plant your feet. Instead of living, choose to be.

And a final comment from me: Go look at the sky, It's good for you any night or day.