Long, long time ago, during some other personal apocalypse, I noticed that world does not end when my life falls apart.
Sun rises and sets.
Other people go about their business.
Even my heart trods on in its rather predictable rhytm.
I was a bit dissapointed at first, I mean - Apocalypse and routine strolling hand in hand! - that could not be right!! But is was. And it is. There is a undeniable and exquisite beauty that liberates with its sole existence in that fact.
So this weekend I walked off, knit off...
...and baked off another apocalypse.
Sun rose and set. People went about their business. And in every beat of my heart there was acknowledgement and celebration of life. Of survival and continuance. Of neverending resolve to incarnate my hopes.