I was lying on the couch resting my fractured arm yesterday afternoon. Called my old friend Nancy, with whom I have shared what we’d now, in our dotage (she’s about to turn 69, I’m pushing 70), call “extreme experiences” while young, back in the halcyon ’60s. After catching up on the dramas in our own lives, and those of others we both know, we ended up talking about my grandson Drew and his friends, how they play games with each other by using their screens; how they are addicted to their screens. How scary that is to me (who is also addicted to my screens).

Then Nancy and I noticed how we were grousing, just like two old women, about how the next generations are being ruined.

We ended up laughing, as usual.

Here’s a great little video from Terence McKenna, about how his philosophy is based on his willingness to encounter and integrate extreme experiences, and how that’s what’s needed to prepare for whatever’s coming next.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZdBZQYCBhQ&feature=related]

And here’s another one, wherein he talks about the “singularity” that many expect at the end of this year, December 21, 2012, based on a number of old documents and calendars, and that he mapped onto a computer program called “Time Wave Zero” leading to the point of maximum intensity in the shortest period of time. What will this singularity portend for our minds, our humanity, our civilization?

Too bad McKenna died (in April 2000). I doubt he would have turned into a grousing old man.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4oV_Z-c0e0&feature=related]

I sense that my broken arm has left me more vulnerable than usual to a kind of subtle insidious fear that whatever comes next, I might not be “up” to it. Hmmm.

Which makes the doc’s pronouncement, when I saw him the other day, that my wrist would be completely healed after three months, a revelation. Three months from the date of my accident is December 23, 2012. Let’s see if I can shave off two days from that timeline.

It does seem astonishingly weird that this — this break of the wrist of my dominant arm and hand, the one that takes me out into the world, the one with which I eat and manipulate objects and write down words — is what I chose to manifest during these final three months of the old 3D reality when everyone around me is crashing into some kind of long-standing internal program now outpicturing in reality to expose their original woundedness.

On every level, physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, it does seem that time is accelerating so quickly that it’s squeezing out whatever is in us that still needs to be healed.