“When I Regained Consciousness”

When I regained consciousness, the world was home to more people than it could sustain. Poverty, disease and violence ruled the overcrowded cities. Revolution raged in pockets around the globe. Industrial waste poisoned the water and polluted the air. Chemicals punched holes in the atmosphere and forced Nature to greater extremes to balance the climate. Numberless indigenous species were exterminated in the relentless pursuit of progress.

When I regained consciousness, fear fought with despair and love was a commodity. The fate of millions was decided by a faceless quorum whose names were known by none. Success was dictated by status. Too few had too much while too many had too little. Fortunes were made and economies destroyed by virtual digits darting through cyberspace.

When I regained consciousness, the Canucks were out of the playoffs and the Maple Leafs were in.

When I regained consciousness, the sky was a bright polished blue. The smell of fresh cut grass was as sweet as the childrenʼs laughter on the breeze that tickled my skin. The cherry trees bloomed and the chickadees chirped. The rain was cool as it danced on the pavement and the sunrise made me pause to marvel at the colours in the clouds.

When I regained consciousness, everything was the same.

* * *

Another writing exercise, this one prompted by the phrase that became its title. I have lately become too aware of misery, seen too many news items about all that is wrong with the world. It started to overwhelm me—probably because I have another %?$/&*ing cold—and just as I felt myself being sucked into the vortex, I heard a little bird chirp and realized that I was missing a gloriously sunny spring day.  A shift of focus and this piece was born.

You cannot change anyoneʼs misery but your own. Stay conscious.