The Choice You Make

He awoke from what felt like a recurring nightmare with the sound of the roof of his house collapsing before him.

A reverse dive from the pool of sweat he’d made for himself, he sat up in bed in terror and confusion, staring in disbelief at the pile of the now-moulded material having crumbled in its ability to shield him from the earth. For the earth was not worthy as a home itself, he’d spent endless time, thought, and money into building something that would protect him from the very source of which he was made – the 4 walls creating an illusion of disconnection from nature itself. It seemed as though overnight his house was no longer the luxury, well-kept, gadget ridden bachelor pad he had proudly and heavily identified with.

This cannot be real, his house had aged 100 years.

The walls were black and peeling, the previously cream plush carpet looked almost as though it had been licked by the fires of hell. His sanctuary now unable to give him refuge. He was lucky the caved in section of the roof had missed him by a few inches, and that he could escape this nightmare through the door behind him. Perhaps if he left the room, he would be transported to the next part of the dream. It’s got to be a dream, he thought.

He made his way down the stairs with great caution, unable to seek stability in the banister that now lay limply to one side, with parts of its skeleton having deserted it for what seemed like a better life on the floor below, freed from its duty to serve human kind. He could only compare the smell of his house to the stench of death, it was something he’d not smelt before but equally something he’d unknowingly participated in for many years.

As he reached the front door, hoping to find both the fear and comfort that came with red and blue lights, sitting outside to rescue him from this horror, he noticed an unfamiliar black book had been posted through his door. As he bent down to investigate it, he caught a glimpse of himself in the dusty mirrored surface of the letter box. Smearing the dust aside with his t-shirt, he noticed his own reflection, he looked the same as when he’d put himself to bed. Handsome, he thought, but now was not the time to think such things, only now, when his world had already fallen around him, did he feel the unimportance of his unruly pre-coffee hair.

The black book contained a cheque addressed to him for $20,000. His initial reaction was a blend of confusion and excitement, following the sobering realisation that the cost involved in repairing the damage of his house heavily outweighed what now seemed like a useless piece of paper he held a little less tightly in his hand. Value was stripped away as quickly and instantly as his ability to change his emotion.

The front door creaked and cracked as he opened it with great caution so not to disturb the broken hinges that looked as though they could part ways with the wooden frame at any moment. Unconsciously preparing to be greeted by a row of neighbourhood houses across the road, he found himself feeling a sudden emptiness inside him, as though someone had reached in and pulled an organ from the centre of his torso, up through his chest and out of his mouth. His breathing stopped for a moment, he became washed over with a sudden wave of deep loneliness and fear.

The houses were gone. There was no one to be seen.

Replacing normality was an entire landscape of rubble overcast with a grey shadow so heavy that it carried the energy of impending doom. Overgrown weeds wrapping themselves around what was left of the architecture, as though they were proudly devouring the remains of human accomplishment. With a deep resistance building in his stomach, he quickly fanned through the pages of the black book he still held, seeking answers, finally noticing that the first few pages had been written on.

‘1st March 2121 -

It’s with a heavy heart that I present to you the world in this form. A shattered image of its former self. It’s downfall at the hands of its very inhabitants. And in its memory, we see imprinted the careless footsteps of man, tarnishing what was left of life itself. The rotting corpse of humanity nothing but a mirror reflecting back at us, as we denied our very existence in the now, living for the future. Forever dreaming up a montage of desirable outcomes, a transient material reward for our efforts of endless suffering. A better world we strive for, always striving, never arriving. Never the ability to bear the reality of our present moment in order to catch a glimpse of what’s really happening. How can we hear the cries of warning if we never stop to listen? Always wanting more, always forming new emotional bonds with material success, seeking answers in the sharp edges of a dollar bill and not the curve of a great mountain or the soft amber glow of an evening sunset.

We have so long been both the victim and the perpetrator of the illusion of separation, fear and longing. Caged within our own minds, living a lie driven by societies unforgiving judgement, sedated by some of our own leaders, guiding us along our sleepwalk of suffering; eyes closed, mouths too wide open, ears tuned in to only one radio station. Turning against one another, our fear blinding us with hate, measuring each other’s worth by the level of our skin’s natural ability to protect us from the sun, being judged by our personal opinions of the sheer beauty of the masculine or feminine traits that make us feel love towards another human being.

And to you I give you this choice, I hand to you the pen to engrave a better truth, a better ending. A decision of great strength that requires you to awaken from this nightmare. When your eyes rise from this page, you will be back in your life with a choice to open your eyes to the love that surrounds you, with the choice to feel the deep connectedness to our world, to our present moment, to each other. The other choice is to fixate on this cheque I offer to you, to enjoy another luxury gift, a fleeting pleasure, to fall back to sleep, to numb yourself into a state of destructive ignorance just so you can avoid the pain of childbirth, never knowing the bliss of unconditional, eternal love that follows this courage, sacrifice and change.’

…