The pieces are coming apart and I am barely keeping up. I now have a clearer view of what the reality of getting old looks and feels like as I am living it in these final stages—there is only the labor of parting from life.
After reading a report from the Global Food Bank, I am concerned about our food supply in the coming months, years. We’re careening headlong towards a catastrophic event, yet another of our own making. As of today, circumstances in Africa, East, North, and South; the Middle East, South America, Eastern Europe, Asia, Russia, Ukraine, and parts of the U.S.—all seeing the early indications of a global food shortage that could devastate the world populations.
Its cause is a perfect storm of climate related events, the destruction of infrastructure through war, and the inability to distribute food and water to those in need. Many are bracing themselves for the outbreak of conflict between NATO, China and the Russian Federation. Waiting for war, which brings agriculture, food production, and distribution of energy, to a halt. If we are in fact headed straight into such a conflict, as many are currently predicting, the foundation of the world as we know it today will be relegated to the dust bin of fallen civilizations.
Does this mean that I should stop looking, stop living, or do I just swim until I sink? How does happiness fit into this scenario?
As I live the reality of old age and physical decline, envisioning my impending departure, there is a part of me that feels lucky knowing that I probably won’t have to deal with the brunt of it, as I will have departed this world by the time we’ve reached the point of full impact. But there is no escaping that desolate feeling of what we have set in motion out of hubris and greed—the suffering that will be unleashed upon the world populations if these predictions come to pass. Death brings little comfort to me knowing what may lie ahead for our planet. Even so, I will continue living each day for future becoming.