Dealing with Fear of Apocalypse

(Posted many months ago, but apropos post election)

Once again, history began at breakfast. Four horsemen trumpet apocalypse: conquest, war, famine and death. Yesterday’s news has already been eclipsed. Shocking surprises; the potential for disillusion. “Life is changing fast,” I say to myself. “Can’t keep up.”

The Four Horsemen: Conquest, War, Famine and Death

“Four Horsemen of Apocalypse” by the Russian artist Viktor Vasnetsov (1887)

Months ago, at a vista in Canyonlands National Park, the slow changes that sculpted this wilderness of pinnacles, canyons and rivers occured long before the creation of the four horsemen from the last book of the New Testament. The rocks I stood on were once ocean.

The doll'shouse formation was sculpted in slow time

View of the Dollhouse formations from the Golden Stairs in Canyonlands National Park. Photo by Hanna Flagg

In this scale, whatever legacies that ancient races left behind are lost in the detritus of petroglyphs and ruins—symbols of greatness and transience. Here, whatever news is brought to me at breakfast disappears into the breath of the wind.

On these pinnacles,  I start the slow movements of tai chi. The roots of the juniper and pinon coil downwards, forging pathways into sandstone. In the chalky dirt, I move carefully around the petrified logs of a pine forest that existed some 200 million years ago. The cataclysm that buried it happened quickly; yet the processes that mineralized the wood occurred particularly slowly.

Petrified wood and juniper forest

Petrified wood and juniper forest in Canyonlands National Park. Photo by Hanna Flagg/

Tai chi slows down my internal rhythms and grounds me into this present moment. The twin forests of death and rebirth at my feet remind me about the yin and yang cycles of change and the rhythms of fast and slow time. These will continue beyond any future I can project and any fears of apocalypse that bring knots to my stomach

If this wilderness, in its pristine and natural disarray, had not been preserved so that I could visit and quiet myself down, it would be more difficult not to give in to primal bewilderment. History would always begin at breakfast with visits of the four horsemen filling me with dread. I would protect myself by hoarding my treasures, arming myself with guns, and guarding my larders full of food and water. Greed and loneliness would become constant companions.

Instead, tai chi purges me of meanness; restores my enthusiasm and curiosity; helps me recover equilibrium in times of strong and confusing changes.

This afternoon in Hines, Oregon, students and I practiced tai chi, with the tall pines and yellow leafed aspens for companions.  It helped quell anxiety; reminded us to try and follow a path of peace, compassion and balance.

It’s what I can do.

The doll'shouse formation was sculpted in slow time

View of the Dollhouse formations from the Golden Stairs in Canyonlands National Park. Photo by Hanna Flagg


3 thoughts on “Dealing with Fear of Apocalypse

    • No thank you for everything you did; and will continue to do. it bound a lot of us together and made us much stronger than we were alone.

  1. Oh Diane!!
    So well said! I read your post as I sat waiting for a friend out by the Haystack formations on Perkinsville road. Sky and undulating grasslands. Bless you, it’s what I can do ❤️

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