Sometimes I realize what it really must have felt like to be at a civilization's end.
There comes a certain tearing away, a certain removing one's self from ongoing concerns. The damage is already done and the edges are fraying; to continue to worry about them or knit one's brow in concern of them has become a pointless exercise.
At that point one turns inward to self and family and home, perhaps to the voices of the past seeking a way through the storm - after all, there is nothing really new under the sun. Fixing things becomes less about fixing the world at large and more about fixing your private world.
Why? Perhaps because the realization has come that there is simply is nothing that you can do to turn the tide. Events are grinding inexorably on; the laws of cause and effect have taken over and it is simply a matter of time. Further attention in the matter brings neither comfort nor resolution, only more anxiety.
Ultimately we all die of course, and hopefully realize before then that most of the great efforts and exertions of our own and others in the power games that we play towards one are pointless, small tempests that matter not in the light of eternity. There is a certain amount of peace that comes when one realizes that this is true of the world around us at well.
Prepare hard. Pray hard. Work to surround yourself with good and like minded people. This is perhaps the best any of us can actually do.
And patiently wait for the slow groanings that presages the fall of the edifice.