The Paradox

I was walking through a valley with a barren landscape. The stone structures were in the distance and bore a color of sandy white. Within my body, I could feel myself walking at a rapid pace. I was searching for something, for someone I just hadn't come to my senses of what it was.  As I continued walking through the blank and a rather opaque area I looked at my body and saw myself wearing a cream colored blouse. The blouse was was loose fitting but I could vividly see the blood from the wound on my left side begin to seep through the cotton. I had been shot. I'm not sure how and it seemed to not matter. Just above my left hip bone and below my belly button I could see the wound begin to turn my once cream shirt a shade of crimson. A recognition fell over me, not of alarm, but just of pure acceptance

I began walking again and in a short time, I saw her. Her calm figure seated peacefully on a white bench. I sat on a bench right in front her so that we were arm's length apart and no further. It was like a breath of fresh air seeing her. Her beautiful smile and welcoming presence.  " I have to tell you all that's happened Mom," I hear myself exhale. We began to chat as two best friends catching up after a long break apart. It was refreshing, it had been years since we were able to speak. I noted time passing but it didn't seem to matter to me. In the corner of my eyes, I could see the crimson red continue to spread and grow brighter near my lower abdomen. But I didn't feel a sensation of fear or urgency. As our conversation continued on I saw clearly that I had two choices. The choices seemed distant as if they were someone else's to decide and not my own.

My first choice was to simply stay. Just continue conversing with my dear mother and telling her all the details of life that she missed since her passing.

My second choice was to leave. If I left now I may possibly have time to find a medic. I would be able to have my wound cared for and stop the bleeding. The paradox of the two options was as if I had been given the choice of a salad or soup for lunch; No anxiety, no rush, just a mere contemplation blurred through my mind.

You see, I wanted so badly to stay here where I was.  I longed to continue sharing with my mother and listening to her voice replying to me as she smiled back. As time passed, I saw the two choices fade deeper and deeper into my mind. I knew that if I chose the medic I could survive and continue on my path of the barren landscape, but if I just stayed I would be able to speak to my mother forever.

In a matter of moments, I awoke. Sweat drenched down my back and on my chest. Disoriented I breathed in sharply.  For after all what would you choose?