Sophi watched the dolphin pass by. She reached out, nearly touching it. Her wrinkled hand was not quick enough, but she reached out anyway. The ocean was vast and the chance of actually touching a wild dolphin was, well, almost non-existent. But she could not help herself. She reached and pleaded, please, please.
If only Frits could see, she pondered, wishing her long-deceased husband to be here, now, to witness this moment with her. But he had been gone for a long time, leaving her to live life for the both of them. At 115, her body was frail, but her heart kept beating, still full of wishes and desires. After all those years on this planet, she still longed to experience, she still longed for adventure. And there she was, swimming with the dolphins. It had been a life-long wish of hers and somehow, it was being fulfilled today. If only she could share, if only she could touch. She leaned into the direction the dolphin was rapidly receding. And that was when the miracle happened.
The sea creature seemed to sense her strong pleading. It slowed its pace, turned around and stared right at her. Slowly it started to advance towards her. She held her breath, was this really happening? What wonder, what spiritual depth…she reached out, this time determined to make contact.
As her hand drifted into view, she noticed something strange sticking out of it. She jolted— what was that? It looked like some kind of tube. No longer paying attention to the dolphin, she panicked a bit. At the same time, the view of the ocean and the sensation of water drew back. What was this? She pulled the drip feed loose and started looking around. Reality kicked in.
Confused, she realized there was no ocean, no spiritual interaction with mysterious sea creatures, no dolphin. Sophi was in a narrow plexi-glass cubicle, just big enough for a relaxing chair and a nurse to come in a check on her. Just like one was doing right now, in a cubicle a couple of rows down. Carefully, she got up from her chair, only to find rows and rows of the elderly, plugged in and seated in their individual cubes.
That was when it struck her. Her grandmother had warned her for this. Somewhere halfway through the 21st century, at the peak of the loneliness pandemic, scientists had discovered the cause of the illness. More and more of the elderly died of mere loneliness, and depression amongst youngsters was soaring. People, with their artificial gadgets and companions, spent increasing amounts of their life online. Yet they forgot about the body. The less time they spent outdoors, with loved ones, moving around and exploring nature, the less truly connected they were. The body was thought to be negligible, something unworthy for experiencing the thrilling life online. Unconnected even though hyper-connected, we forgot the fundamental basis of being: the physical plane as the seat of the soul. That was when the loneliness pandemic struck.
It all came back to Sophi now. Her grandmother had told her this story again and again, pressing her to learn it by heart. She needed to remember more, fast, and knew the way out of this cubicle was hidden in her grandmother’s story.
She pushed herself, hard, think think think, find the way out, listen to your loving nana, she had been right all the time. Evoke the memory, before the nurse reaches your row and starts checking on your brittle body. All of a sudden it dawned on her. Tears welled up in her eyes. The truth lay in her brain.
Her grandmother had not only warned her again and again, she had also taught her the natural cure for loneliness for she had known the ancient technique of releasing DMT into the brain. In case Sophi would ever feel alone, or disconnected from Source, all she had to do was return to her practice, trigger her brain and again feel the deep connection to all that was.
DMT was the molecule present in all things on this planet, the molecule existent in all beings, from plants to animals, humans included. DMT was what connected us, the language we all subconsciously spoke and understood. Remembering the ancient treat, she started inspecting the drip feed. More insight dawned.
Somehow, scientists identified what was wrong with humanity, and found a cure in artificial, chemically enhanced DMT. Looking around, she realized their salvation had become their undoing. Instead of practicing the natural release of the spirit molecule, society had decided to hook the elderly up to such high doses of the artificial alternative that all loneliness vanished for good. No more depression, no more illness, merely a state of constant and pure bliss. What a convenient solution, she thought. There was no further need to look after the elderly, nor the necessity to grant them a fulfilling life. Just hook them up and plug them in, she thought with a wry smile. But not for her, she would find a way out, she would tell the world about this deceit. Slowly, she started preparing for practice.
Then, she realized it would not be today. As the nurse approached, she knew she had no other choice but to remain unnoticed, for now. She slid the drip feed back into her vein and lay back in her chair, waiting, remembering, preparing.