At the risk of being given a white robe, poster, and a spot on the city sidewalk, I believe it is entirely possible that we only have a few generations before the planet runs into inevitable disaster, and civilization as we know it, and perhaps the human race, could be gone - that we can all forget having great grandchildren.
But when I get past the stages of panic and despair, sometimes I find a new place of peace. It could very well be that the human race was never meant to live forever - after all, that is not the nature of life. All things must pass. It may be that we are only meant to last a brief time, this tiny six million year tick of the evolutionary clock, like a wildflower blooming for a day before it takes its exit from the world.
If there is truly nothing that can be done, if these are truly our last days, then our job would be to shine in the time that is left, rather than to fight a hopeless fight or drown our sorrows in ever more sophisticated technology. We could accept our approaching death with grace, and live as we truly want to live - with grace and beauty and love in the short time we have left. The phrase "Live each day as if it were your last" might take on a new meaning. And we could love each other, and love our planet - not necessarily because we can save it, but because it is our true nature to love, and it is in loving that we find the greatest joy and peace.
Happiness is not found in the achievement of grand goals, but in the moment, in the echo of the laughter of children, in a moment of ecstasy with a lover, in the delicasy of a wildflower, here but for a moment.
Is this not all the more reason to start living now as we truly want to live? And is it not in living as we were meant to live that there is any hope at all?
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