Original Reality - 2015

What a beautiful night.  Several hundred miles from any city center of import, the sky is pitch black, aside from points of bright white an unfathomable distance away.  In this remote location, there’s essentially no light pollution.

Some dots look incredibly sharp and focused, seemingly close enough to reach out and touch, while others are dimmer and blurry.  I’m not sure if the discrepancy is a result each star’s dimension, position, or composition.  Maybe, it’s just because I took my contacts out after dinner, eschewing glasses at this late hour.

I used to know the various constellation configurations, a memory skill reinforced by my father breaking out the telescope any time we came up to this remote cabin, situated at the far end of the Upper Peninsula in the state of Michigan.  The tippy top of the mitten is an apt descriptor for this location, as we often had to wear gloves, and wade through slush, on various fishing and foraging endeavors.

The gods, or more accurately the weather, as I’m now a decided atheist, foregoing my Catholic familial roots, has been favorable this week.  Granted, the month of August here is typically personified by warm temperatures and minimal precipitation.

Plus, a decided decrease in the bug count, a welcome reprieve considering my propensity to reveal tender flesh.  Tall socks, citronella candles, floppy hats, and aloe lotion, are all mandatory accessories during the mosquito-infested summer season.

Conveniently, there’s currently another scheme for mitigating the natural flying infestation.  A smoldering campfire, hardwood coals having transitioned from vibrant yellow to dull ruby.  The progressive dimming enables further probing into the black depths of the night sky.  And provides a rough timeline for how long I’ve been stationary on this rickety folding chair, positioned in loose pebbles, on a debatably flat patch.

The meager fire is putting out much less energy than it used to, when I could place my bare feet close to the metal ring, enjoying the radiant heat emitted.  As such, I bend my lanky bare legs, knees folding up to my chest, like closing the blade of a penknife, a tool often used to whittle driftwood scrouged from the beach as a child.

At least my current yoga addiction is proving useful for something.

Still unsatisfied by the level of warmth, with goosebumps covering my pale skin, I tuck my entire lower half up under my oversized cotton sweatshirt, smooth knit on the outside, with a soft pilly interior.  This makeshift blanket will do nicely.

Looking down, I examine the front of my fabric cocoon.  The light grey background is adorned with a single large letter.  A capital “M”, navy blue in color, with a thin yellow outline.  Or more accurately “maize”, the official name for this hue.  I should know by now, as a rising senior at the University of Michigan. 

While my now-compact form is much improved from a comfort standpoint, this raised perch on uneven ground has become even more precarious.  Balance is at a premium.  A physical trait I typically have complete mastery of.  However, at this late point in the evening, this corporal sense is slightly impaired.

On the rocky sand to my right is a foam koozie, a nearly depleted can housed within.  Considering the dropping outdoor temperatures, this insulating sleeve isn’t really necessary, but is a staple of lake life, especially for sunny afternoons on the boat. 

Another personification of this summer setting is the libation itself, a wheat ale brewed in my home state, and consumed in copious quantities during outdoor activities.  Amazingly, without toppling over, I’m able to reach the beer, and bring it to my lips.  Taking the last satisfying gulp, I savor the citrus aromas and malty flavors.  So refreshing.

I don’t officially turn 21 until this upcoming fall, but have already enjoyed my fair share of alcoholic drinks in college.  As a result, I’m enjoying an ale, or three, now that my parents have gone to bed.  Not that they wouldn’t care anyways; don’t drink and drive was their only strict rule, dating back to high school.

I’m currently spending my final days of seasonal break here at their vacation cottage, before hopefully getting back to work earning my bachelor’s degree biomedical engineering from U of M.  This is a prestigious program, one of the highest ranking in the country, and diligent work ethic has put me near the top of the class thus far.  As such, I deserve a relaxing respite before the semester starts.

Setting my empty beverage down carefully, to avoid upsetting my delicate post, I close my eyes and slow my breathing, letting my body become one with the night.  In just a minute, the immersion is complete, my ears taking over as the primary sense.  

An environ that previously seemed quiet has now become awash with sound.  Intermittent cracking, faint but perceptible, as tiny air pockets in the dense coals are relieved of pressure.  The rhythmic lapping of the waves on the shoreline, perpetual motion generated by a light breeze.  Shrill chirping of crickets, or maybe peepers, signifying fall is on the way.  Insects and frogs have distinctly different sounds, but my rural perceptual acuity is compromised by many months of bustling college campus living.  

Reopening my lids, the panorama of stars now appears even brighter than ever.  I’m pretty sure the constellation almost directly overhead is Ursa Major, a massive bear shape creatively visualized by a collective of white dots, which encompasses the Big Dipper.  I can easily confirm this info with the sky mapping app I’ve downloaded.

Instinctively, I wriggle my hand around under my stretched sweatshirt, trying to reach the front pocket of my cut-off jean shorts, where my cellphone is housed.  After a few seconds of increasingly frantic thrashing, I realized the issue, and can’t help but smile.

I left this device in the house to charge when I grabbed my last beverage from the kitchen.  It’s sad how addicted myself, and society as a whole, have become to these electronic shackles.  Being away from technology, even when sleeping, is a rarity these days.

Rising with purpose, I pluck another dry log from the disjointed pile, and place it on the hottest section of coals.  Then, finding and redonning my flip flops, I stride up the gravel path towards the house with purpose.

Instead of getting my phone, I’m going to scrounge up that old telescope from the gear closet.  I’ll also need my eyeglasses to enable accurate focusing on the distant specks.  I’m going to learn about the dynamic evening sky the same way astronomers of yore did.  No digital support required.   

This entire late-night, secluded-country, experience could be a new form of meditation.  And a health reprieve from the over-stimulation of modern society.  I should try it more often. 

Augmented Reality - 2030

The wind rustles gently through the palm fronds composing the roof of this hut.  This zephyr provides convective cooling and soothing sounds, both welcome additions to my beachside experience.

This outdoor bar sits just 20 feet from the shoreline, at current high tide, the brilliant aquamarine water contrasting the bleached white sand.  Now this is a vacation.  Especially when taking into account the drink in my hand, an unidentifiable combination of dark rums and fruit juices.  I deserve a little time off.

I spent the past 3 weeks working at one of the many prosthetics manufacturing facilities my employer owns in China.  This was my longest overseas stint to date, and by the end I was beat, desperately in need of a break.

Between working on the assembly floor all day, writing up documentation reports in the evening, then having video calls with my colleagues stateside in the subsequent early morning hours, I didn’t get much sleep.  Hence the holiday.

I’ve always wanted to visit Thailand, and this seemed like as good a time as any.  With the blessing of my boss, I rerouted my return flight to the U.S., and put in for 3 days of PTO.  Which are now sadly coming to an end.  May as well enjoy the final night to its fullest.

The bar top in front of me is composed of a clear acrylic sheet, placed over a menagerie of locally collected seashells, inlaid on a sandy mortar.  A simple but elegant design, which clearly fits the rustic beach theme personified by this specific establishment, and the entire city for that matter. 

Atop this smooth surface sits a large black platter, the perfect background hue to highlight the colorful fruits, and pale cheeses, elegantly arranged on the plate.  Not a bad happy hour snack.  Stuff is so cheap here, I have no problem splurging, even on my middling engineer’s salary.

Aside from banana and pineapple, recognized visually, and sharp cheddar, identified by taste, I’ve been unable to ascertain any of these other local offerings.  Time to enlist some help.  Fortunately, I have a technological aid that should prove valuable.

My selected stool is appropriately made of bamboo, no doubt sourced from nearby, like all the construction materials used at this Tiki Hut.  Twisting round, I reach into my purse, slung over the raised back support, and extract my sunglasses.

I took these shades off upon sitting down at this shaded spot, after enjoying a sunny stroll along the beach.  Clad in just a modest one-piece black swimsuit, with a shear silk shawl, adorned with a colorful orchid print, acquired at the local market, tied around my waist, I was able to get a nice tan, a rare occurrence for my usually pale and pasty skin.

Along the way, I tried to place one foot in water, and the other on land, toes of both sinking deep into the soft sandy slurry during each step.  It was hard, and warm, work after a while, hence the need for this current refreshment break.

Donning my eyewear, prescription frames that match my strong prescription, my vision improves markedly.  The outlines of the various unique fruits become sharper, and the hues of the beige cheeses more differentiated.  But this isn’t the only sight supplementation this fancy device offers.

Raising my right finger to my temple, I touch the tiny button that activates the embedded electronic systems.  Instantly, the images viewed through tinted lenses are augmented with additional details.

A digital clock in the upper right corner, which I note briefly, then make disappear by a simple wink of the corresponding eye.  Same with the current temperature value, shown on the left lens in a mirrored position.  I’m on vacation at a tropical beach, rendering both time and weather irrelevant.

But there is some information I would like to glean with these glasses.  Shifting my gaze to the appetizer tray in front of me, I whisper “ID”, so quiet as to be imperceptible to any adjacent patrons, yet the microphone housed in the nosepiece picks the command up instantly.

Within seconds, blocky letters have been overlaid on each item of the tray.  I review the words, only slightly more informed now than I was before.  Sure, I’ve heard of mango, but, as a Midwest girl born and raised, didn’t have these orbs growing on any native trees.  And both gouda and gruyère sound familiar, maybe as ingredients in the incredibly hearty macaroni and cheese casserole which was my grandmother’s specialty.  The other terms will require further research.

In addition to sound commands, these clever goggles can also be controlled through movement, not just of my eyes, but also my fingers.  Reaching out, I touch a completely unknown offering, a smooth white oval sitting in a spiney red half shell, while simultaneously whispering “DEF”.

I’ve programed in these shorthand commands, to keep conversation with myself to a minimum while in a public setting.  As I bring the tender orb to my mouth, a string of text scrolls across my vision.  The font appears in bright white, using the dark black dish as the background, rather than the busy bar surface.  Now we’re getting somewhere.

Apparently, I’m eating a rambutan, a member of the lychee family.  Which means nothing to me, and may as well be written in the native Thai characters.  Fortunately, I’m able to access ancillary details. Most relevant to my current consumption is the knowledge this local delicacy has a central seed which should not be consumed, just like the prickly covering I already discarded.

Despite the care that must be taken while eating, this fruit is incredibly tasty, the soft flesh easy to chew, packed with a combination of sweet and sour notes, plus several antioxidants, according to the supplemental notes provided.  I wonder what else this tropical paradise has to serve up on the food front? 

15 minutes later, with the aid of my fancy sunglasses, I’ve learned the name and flavor profile of every item on my sampler platter.  A healthy bounty, providing a welcome nutritional balance to the sugary and boozy cocktail I’m indulging in.  So what, I’m on holiday. 

I’ve resolved not to check my work emails during this brief reprieve, even though the augmented shades make doing so incredibly easy.

Last year, I officially crossed into my mid-30s, not excessively old for an eligible female, but clearly not getting any younger.  Still single, I can count the number of relationships I’ve had beyond a first date in my adult life on one hand.

I blame this lack of matching and mating on my workaholic tendencies, perpetually prioritizing career over social life.  Case and point is this recent China trip, covering on late notice for a colleague who got sick, and cancelling on a cousin’s wedding in Washington, D.C., a festive event bound to have some suitable bachelors.

I wonder what the dating scene is like here in Phuket?  It doesn’t hurt to check.  Using a series of terse verbal commands, a few I’m forced to reword as I rarely navigate to online hook-up platforms, finally gets me to the social media app of choice.  In lieu of talking, which could give my ploy away, I simply swipe left or right with my eyes, activity hidden from all others by the dark tint of the lenses.

Meanwhile, I make sure to keep taking intermittent sips of Mai Tai, and bites of cheese, to present an air of casual contentment.  However, after just a few minutes, while veiled, my mind is churning, and my heart is racing.  This courting stuff is just too stressful for my fragile and introverted demeanor.

Jabbing at the power button with unnecessary force, the electronics finally go dark, mercilessly ending my social media torture.  Tearing the glasses off, and snapping the temples together, I spin around to return them to my bag.  Startled, I’m met by the face of a young man, whose olive skin, toned jawline, and curly black hair are all characteristic of Greek decent.  A fellow tourist, and a very cute lad.

Maybe I should get my head out of the digital realm, and spend more time in the real world.  Let’s see if I can get this gentleman to buy me a drink?

Virtual Reality - 2045

I’m lying flat on my back, staring directly skyward.  The high salinity of the water, combined with my fatty composition, allows my body to float almost effortlessly. 

Overhead, a majestic bird soars.  While primarily white in color, with black feather tip accents, this creature is not one of those pesky pigeons who invade typical tourist trap beach resorts.  Focusing on the wing shape and span, I rack my memory banks back to high school biology class, one of my favorites, with a very engaging teacher, an experience instrumental in setting my own career path.

An Audouin’s gull?  Or maybe a Caspian tern?  It’s hard to gauge size without a frame of reference, against the impossibly blue and infinitely deep midday sky.  This flying fowl seems to glide effortlessly, leveraging invisible thermal updrafts, rather than wasting energy flapping appendages.

Speaking of the sun, I can feel its powerful rays infusing every inch of exposed skin.  Nudity is much more accepted here in Europe, especially the southern region ringing the Mediterranean, than my United States homeland.

I’m by no means an exhibitionist, considering my pervasive body confidence issues.  However, the remoteness of this beautiful cove, and the natural seclusion offered by the cliffs of smooth limestone rising vertically from the sea, was too tempting to resist.

Sensing parts of my exposed figure that rarely get inundated with UV waves becoming overstimulated, I decide it’s time to flip.  Rotating onto my stomach, simply be plunging one arm deep into the water, and the other high into the sky, coordinated with a kick of the legs, I make an awkward half rotation.

Despite the liquid’s temperature approaching 30°C, I still feel an instinctive shock as the previously baking follicles now become quenched.  This jolt only lasts a few seconds before the soothing sensations return, my back and buttocks now enjoying the steady warmth emitted from the radiating orb above.

My eyes were closed for my aquatic machinations, but now resettled, I decide to open them.  This decision is rewarded with a panorama even more brilliant than the prior aerial observation.

Unfathomably, my vision through water seems even more acute than air.  Plus, there’s a lot more to examine in the depths of this vibrant reef community.

The ocean floor, many meters below, resembles the hues of the Irish flag: wavy tall green seagrass, and intertwined porous orange coral, both protruding from the fine sandy white bottom.  Against this backdrop, various creatures darting to and fro, most so quickly they’re impossible to identify.

Focusing on a singular spot where the most activity seems to occurring, a black opening in the dense bed that I perceive to be a cave entrance, I’m able to hone in on a few specific swimming inhabitants of this menagerie.

A moray eel, boring dull grey in color, but moving with a slow rhythmic oscillation of the body, making spotting and tracking easy.  Seabreams, presenting a wide range of iridescent scale reflectivity, darting past rapidly; I’m only able to track the movement of these aerodynamic fish in schools, as opposed to identifying individual members.  Even a marbled ray, well camouflaged in this aquatic landscape despite the huge size, nearly a meter in length when counting the electrified tail.  

It's a colorful collage that’s complex and compelling.  I’m content staying here on the surface, allowing these critters to interact in their natural habitat undisturbed. 

This open water float is a very visually stimulating and immersive experience.  Which unfortunately must come to an end.  In a cold and harsh reality.

Suddenly, I find myself shivering in a bathtub of tepid water.  The room is completely dark, aside from the dim red glow of the electronic device I just removed from my face, flashing light signifying low battery power.  Talk about a complete change of scenery.

Slowly regaining my senses, I handle the helmet carefully.  Matte black in color, with sharp design lines, the unit is surprisingly heavy for its perceived volume.  This mass is due to the dense battery, a feature I know well from being involved in the development process as a product tester.

Yet, when donned, the sensation of bulkiness disappears, due to the perfect balance of mass, in a perimeter ring that encircles my head.  Still, I’m sure my neck muscles are strengthened through hours of otherworldly out-of-body experiences.

Reaching over the side of the tub and down to the tiled floor, an awkward movement considering my flabby arms and overweight frame, I pick up a case the size of a shoebox.  This container has a hard plastic shell, and padded foam interior, both meant to protect the sensitive electronics it typically houses.

Awkwardly manipulating the clasp, with wrinkled and wet fingers, as a result of my lengthy soak session, I’m finally able to open clamshell sides, and put my expensive toy safely away.  So much for my relaxing simulated afternoon at the beach.  The actual resorts on the Balearic Sea are way too crowded for my liking.

I completed my meetings in Barcelona yesterday, working deep into the evening on a Friday, to make sure all the executives left at the company were clear on their roles.  Now the weekend, on a Saturday in late July, with the countrywide Spanish August month-long holiday fast approaching, I’m sure those still employed are living it up somewhere fun. 

However, the stress of many executed layoffs was so personally taxing that I haven’t left my posh hotel in 36 hours, relying on room service for sustenance, and my virtual reality headset for entertainment. 

The half-drank bottle of fine Rioja wine, and a plate of seafood-ladened paella barely picked at, sitting on the coffee table, are a testament to my frayed mental state.  I did scarf down a trio of fried churros dipped in dark chocolate, which probably explains my current stomach irritation.  Food is much more elegant in the imagined world, but doesn’t offer the necessary nutrients.

My 5^th decade on Planet Earth, which recently culminated, has been the most tumultuous of my life.  Love and hate.  Marriage and divorce.  Success and failure.

On the work front, things are going great.  Not without lack of effort, as I’ve had to make sacrifices in other key areas of life.  Which explains my recent, less than amicable, separation from my husband of just 7 years.

I’ve wrestled my way up the corporate ladder, successfully navigating several acquisitions, mergers, and restructurings.  The original prosthetics operation I worked for was bought by a larger health care provider, this outfit eventually joining forces with a biopharma conglomerate, who was looking to boost revenue and support their publicly traded stock price.

I’m now responsible for facilitating reorganization efforts across Europe, which in business speak means firing people to consolidate resources.  Not a fun role, but the pay is outstanding, and I get to travel broadly on the company dime.  Still, I miss the hands-on engineering work that personified my university studies and early job roles.

In that regard, this state-of-the-art VR device has allowed me to keep connected with the product side on multiple levels.

First, through testing of the physical unit itself, an early prototype model, which is being developed to help individuals with anxiety and depression issues escape the pressures of the real world.  While I would never admit it professionally, my own mental state is not far from our target customer demographic.

Additionally, this tool has proven invaluable for work: practicing upcoming presentations, touring manufacturing facilities, attending board meetings, from thousands of kilometers away, in all manner of different time zones.  On that note, I should probably fire off some emails regarding the new corporate structure before our production crews in Asia wake up on their Monday morning.   

Hefting my girthy frame from the tepid tub, I dry off, then don a large and plush robe, complements of the hotel.  Contemplating my options, I hesitate briefly, then scoop up the sturdy goggle case from the bathroom floor.  I can plug this gadget into the outlet on the nightstand, and return to my imagined realm while lying on the bed.  Work, and the world at large, can wait.

New Reality - 2060

The sound reverberating through my head is thunderous.  It’s like being in a tin roof barn during a Midwestern thunderstorm, an experience that personified my upbringing, amplified one logarithmic decibel level up.

I’m not sure if my ear drums or brain function will give out first, but am happy to enjoy this overstimulation to the bitter end.

The only sense more engaged than my ears are my eyes.  I’m taking in the vast scenery from a stagnant perch on a wet rock, like everything in the relentless spray of this waterfall.  Good thing I’m sporting sturdy hiking shoes, with robust rubber tread.

In front of me is a wall of green, some of the densest jungle imaginable, growing vertical as opposed to horizontal.  The lone interruption in this amphitheater of jade is a sliver of sapphire, originating well out of view above, and culminating in the circular pool below.  Which must be getting deeper with each passing minute, as it has for centuries, solid rock slowly carved away by the cascading silty medium.

This is my first time visiting the Amazon rainforest.  I’ve studied this region’s flora and fauna over the years at various times, for educational biology coursework, natural pharmacological inputs, and medical sales opportunities.  But scholarly textbooks, chemical analysis, and financial spreadsheets don’t do this majestic land justice.  Even the online imagery searches I consumed in the days leading up to this adventure fall well short.

It was a long slog trekking 3 kilometers, then descending 300 meters, to the base of this epic flow.  In my prior physical state, there’s no way I could have made it down to this isolated spot.  I have no doubt the climb back up will be brutal, but I appreciate the thrill of the chase.  Plus, my body can now do things never previously conceivable.

Granted, a person doesn’t go from 100 to 70 kilograms in mass without some help.  In my case, and position, I conveniently had access to the best GLP-1 offerings the drug industry could conceive.  Starting my curated program a decade back, the weight dropped off like soft snow on tall pine tree after a strong gust of wind, another memorable experience from my youth. 

However, the rapid progress initially made quickly reverted back to obese normalcy, if I missed just a few regimented dosages.  

Thus, I quickly realized pills and injections were just the tip of the vast and hidden iceberg in this era of scientific advancement.  It would be hypocritical if I didn’t embrace the products my multinational pharmaceutical company, and by extension myself, pedal for profit on a daily basis.

Having recently turned 65, I’m very happy to finally be retired.  Such relaxation has been a long time coming.  There’s a decided irony that, while making millions of dollars in the medical industry during my career, I never took any time to care for my own health.  Until now.  Lately, I’ve gone all-in on the health front.

My newest bodily enhancement was implanted directly into the brain, via painless non-invasive surgery, just 6 months ago.  This device has changed my life for the better, in a multitude of ways.  Most notable is an enjoyment of exercise, combined with the mental motivation to engage in such physical pursuits.

I have sufficient funds to hire a guide here in this developing nation of Brazil.  But that wouldn’t be any fun.  In my rejuvenated state, I’ve resolved to forge my own path, no longer dictated by the whims of corporate overlords, who dictated my entire existence for decades.

Granted, my mind manipulation is like having one helper, or a half dozen, with me at any given time.  I’m still quite learned and sharp, but my mental acuity has slowly started to wane, like anyone of advancing age.  Still, I’m now somehow recognizing and reacting to the natural environment in ways seemingly impossible.

The dangerous snake I could have stepped on, camouflage in color, yet magically noticed just before trampling.  Route planning, making the correct choice at multiple unmarked junctions, to reach this unique position.  Finding safe fruit to eat, as my energy levels became depleted, in an environ pervasive with toxic plants.

All these decisions were instinctive, leveraging my brilliant brain, but amplifying and accessing data I never should or would have known.  Modern science is truly magical.  This solo venture mimics the virtual reality experiences I craved on the couch, but with much more corporeal tangibility.

Granted, the encountered risks in a wild jungle environ are substantially greater than when seated on the couch in a furnished penthouse.

Picking my way on uneven ground down to the turbulent water’s edge, I kneel carefully.  If I slip and fall into the river below, considering the rapid rate of flow, and remote location, I’ll be dead before anyone finds me, despite my newly svelte physique.  Staring down into the turbulent pool, I contemplate if this is a viable way to exit the world.

My musings are interrupted by a flash of yellow, initially underwater, then transitioning into the air, overcoming the relentless opposing flow.  This battle against attrition mirrors my own life struggle. 

A poison dart frog apparently, a reptile I have no recollection of until this current encounter, yet my cranial implantation allows me to seamlessly see and immediately identify the tiny critter.  If the liquid is safe for this little guy, it’s safe for me.

Having given up alcohol as a key part of my healthy transformation, I now only consume water, preferably sparkling and flavored.  However, a clear and cold sip from cupped hands, naturally filtered, is more refreshing than even the fanciest bottle of bubbly.  I couldn’t be happier, or more content.

Freed in mind, and energized in spirit, I rise from my crouched position, and stride forward with confidence.  With my mind manipulation device, I’ll be able to avoid the multitude of deadly creatures living here, identify flora with homeopathic benefits, and maneuver any landscape terrain traps, as I continue my exploration of the Amazonian jungle.

While physically alone, I’m directly connected to the entirety of human knowledge.  And endowed with heightened sensory perception that I’m just starting to comprehend and harness in the natural world.

The pungent smell of organically compounding earth in my flared nostrils.  The lingering sour bite of camu camu berries I picked and snacked on to replenish nutrients earlier.  The delicate feel of soft moss brushing against my toned calf.   

This bonus brain functionality supplement is a drug-like, out-of-body, experience, which is oh so enjoyable.  I should have made these corporal enhancements years ago.  This reality is right.