Thoughts Over Brews

Once upon a time, in a vast and silent desert where the sun scorched the earth and the stars flickered like distant hopes, a boy was born far removed from the bustling world of men and women. The people of his homeland lived within an invisible boundary, never daring to look beyond it. The outside world was a forbidden mystery, deemed unnatural and alien.

Then, one night, the boy had a dream. In it, he met a girl unlike anyone he’d ever seen. She was radiant, her beauty shining from within, and she showed him a place that was different yet strangely familiar. They talked for hours about things he could barely put into words, and he felt more alive with her than he ever had. She offered him her hand, inviting him to explore this unknown world. Just as he was about to grasp it, the morning bells rang, and he woke up.

Eager to share this revelation, he ran to his parents, explaining his dream and his belief that something—someone—waited for him outside. His father dismissed it as childish nonsense, urging him to focus on his studies. His mother looked at him with fear, recalling tales of others who’d left after having similar dreams. Frightened, she scolded him, insisting he stop his foolish talk and focus on becoming a man.

Disheartened, he turned to his friends, hoping they might understand. But instead, they recoiled, repeating warnings their parents had given them—that kids who dreamed of other lands were dangerous. His friends distanced themselves, fearing he’d lost his mind.

For a moment, he doubted himself. Maybe it was just a dream, he thought. But then, night after night, the dreams returned. He met more people—other children, even adults from the dream world—who encouraged him to seek his own path. They showed him wonders beyond his imagining and hinted at a “homeland” he couldn’t recall. This talk of a homeland confused him. “How could I return to a place I’ve never known?”

In one dream, he met a figure who felt like his mother. She revealed the truth: he never truly belonged to his current world, nor to the other. She guided him to see beyond illusions, uncovering the reality hidden in plain sight. She showed him a world filled with fear masquerading as love, with people clinging to happiness yet begrudging it in others.

“True love and happiness,” she told him, “lie deep within, yet people choose denial. They call this reality, but they are trapped in a dream.”

The boy felt a profound loss, yet in her embrace, he felt more complete than ever. He asked her, “Why make two lands? Why not unite them and end all this suffering?”

His Mother smiled. “The lands were never truly separate. They exist together, right here and now. The division is only in people’s minds. You, the girl, even I—we’re all one. There is no ‘you’ or ‘me,’ only eternity. I can guide you, but the choice to journey toward your homeland is yours alone. No one else can wake you to the truth.”

When he awoke, everything around him looked the same, yet felt profoundly different. He could feel the love within himself, the call from his homeland, and the weight of the dream he’d been living. He realized then that he couldn’t chase this land; he could only choose to see it.

Now, his journey wasn’t just about reaching a place or proving his dreams. It was about letting go of illusion and embracing what was real. He still felt the pull to awaken others, to share what he’d seen. “How can I go alone when everyone I love is asleep?” he wondered. But he knew, too, that separation was the greatest illusion of all.

With a peaceful heart, he continues his journey toward eternity, waking those he can. He believes that one day they’ll all be together again. And that day? It’s already here, now—because, after all, time itself is an illusion.