loudly? Only now did it occur to me that although every bird had a different voice, none were ever out of tune with the rest of the choir. They always managed to produce such a graceful symphony; no orchestra, however sophisticated could be favourably compared.
The sun stretched its rays between the trees, creating a magical backlighting that highlighted the voluminous depth and richness of the colours of the forest and transforming it into one miraculous hologram. The path led me diligently towards the sea. The emerald waves exchanged whisperings with the warm sea breeze. The shore seemed endless and empty but I felt comfortable and at peace as if the overpopulated world had created a secluded corner just for me. Some people believe the world is an illusion created by the mind but I could not imagine having such a high opinion of myself that I could think all this beauty was the product of my own consciousness.
Still feeling the effect of my oppressive dream I began to reminisce about my former life, which had actually been as dull and gloomy as my dream. Like a lot of people, I had often demanded that the world give me all I felt it owed me but in response it had turned its back on me in indifference. I was advised by others wiser and more experienced than myself not to give up because the world doesn’t give up that easily either. “You have to fight for what you want”. So I tried battling with the world but I didn’t get anywhere and ended up exhausted. My advisers had a ready answer for this too. “You are the problem. Change yourself before you start demanding things of life”. So, I battled with myself but this turned out to be even harder than battling with the world.
Then one day, I dreamed that I was in a nature reserve. In the dream I was surrounded by indescribable beauty. I was walking through the reserve and admiring the full wonder of it all when I came across an angry old man with a grey beard who, as far as I could make out, was the Guardian of the Reserve. He watched me in silence. I walked up to him but as soon as I opened my mouth to speak he cut across me. In a cold tone he said that he didn’t want to hear a word; he was tired of noisy and capricious visitors who were constantly displeased, always making demands and left mountains of rubbish after themselves. I nodded in sympathy and walked on.
I was amazed by the unique beauty of the reserve and wondered why I hadn’t visited it before. Enchanted, I continued to wander around taking in the magnificence on all sides. No words could fully describe the perfection of the landscape. My mind went blank in stunned admiration.
Soon the Guardian appeared before me again. The austere look on his face had softened and he beckoned for me to follow. We climbed to the top of a green hill and from there the spectacular view of a picturesque valley opened before us. I could make out some kind of village with toy houses decorated with plants and flowers like an illustration in a book of fairy-tales. Had the scene before me appeared more real I could have stood regarding it with delight for some time. As it was, I started to suspect that such fabulous beauty was the stuff of dreams and not real life. I turned to the Guardian with a questioning look but he just sneered into his beard as if to say: “We’re only just getting started!”
As we descended into the valley below it began to dawn on me that I could not remember how I had arrived at the reserve. I was hoping the old man could give me an explanation. Then I must have made some clumsy remark about how it must feel pretty damn good to be one of the lucky ones who could afford to live in such a beautiful place, to which, openly displaying his irritation, the Guardian replied: “Who is stopping you from joining them?”
I started to go on about how not everyone was born rich and we don’t choose our fate. The Guardian ignored my words and said: “That’s the point. Everyone is free to choose any destiny they wish. The only freedom we truly have is the freedom of choice. You can choose anything you want.”
His statement did not at all fit with my philosophy of life and I made to argue with him, but the Guardian would not listen: “Fool!” he said. “You have the right to choose, but you don’t exercise it. You do not even understand what ‘to choose’ really means.” This is ridiculous, I thought. What does he mean by, “I can choose whatever I want”? Anyone would think that you could just conjure up anything you wanted. At that moment I suddenly realised that I was dreaming. The situation threw me and I did not know how to behave.
As far as I can recollect I hinted to the old man that he could choose to speak rubbish whether in a dream or in waking but there ended the extent of his freedom. My comment did not seem to bother the Guardian at all; in fact he laughed in response. Aware of how ridiculous the situation was (what was the point of getting into a debate with a figure from my own dream?) I was considering whether it would be better to wake myself up. As if reading my mind the old man said: “That’s enough. We don’t have much time. I hadn’t expected them to send me a moron like you, but I must carry on with my mission nonetheless.”
I was going to ask him what his ‘mission’ was, and who ‘they’ were but he ignored me, instead giving me a riddle, which at the time seemed quite absurd: “Everyone can have the freedom to choose whatever they want; but here’s a riddle for you: how do you acquire that freedom? When you guess the answer correctly your apples will fall to the sky.”
What apples? I was beginning to loose patience and said that I had no intention of solving any riddles. Miracles only happened in dreams and fairy-tales. In reality, apples generally fall to the ground, to which he replied: “That’s enough! Let’s go. There is something I must show you.”
Regrettably, when I woke up I could not remember the end of the dream. However, I did have the distinct feeling that although I was unable to express it consciously, the Guardian had imparted some kind of information to me. Just one word seeped through into my mind but I had no idea what it meant: Transurfing. The thought I found going round my mind was that I did not have to totally furnish my world myself; that everything that was to be mine had been created long ago without my participation but for my own well-being. There was absolutely no point in battling with the world for a place under the sun, and no-one was stopping me from simply choosing the life I wanted to have.
At first the idea seemed absurd. I would probably have forgotten all about it if I had not to my amazement soon afterwards started having very clear recollections of what the Guardian meant by the word ‘choose’, and how to actually make a choice. The answer to the Guardian’s riddle came to me of its own accord; as knowledge does sometimes seem to come from nowhere. Every day I learned something new and each time I felt huge surprise, sometimes bordering on fear. I can give no rational explanation of how this knowledge came to me but of one thing I am certain. I could never have made it up myself.
Ever since I discovered Transurfing (or rather, since I was given it to discover) my life has been filled with joyful meaning. Anyone who has ever been involved in some kind of creative work will know the happiness and fulfilment that comes with creating something with your own hands. Imagine then the feeling of creating your own destiny. Even the expression ‘to create your own destiny’ as it is interpreted in its usual sense, fails to describe what I mean here. Transurfing is a method that frees you to choose your own destiny, literally like you would choose something in a supermarket. I want to share this with you so that you can understand why ‘apples fall to the sky’, why the ‘morning stars rustle’, and many other curious things.
The Guardian’s Riddle
There are different interpretations of the nature of fate. One interpretation is that fate is your lot in life, something predetermined and which however hard you try, you can never escape. This definition is rather limiting as it suggests that if a rough lot has befallen you in life there is no hope of anything ever getting any better. Despite this, there will always be those who willingly accept this definition of fate because it is convenient. They would rather life be reliable and the future more or less predictable than live with the fear of uncertainty.
Nonetheless, the total inevitability implied by this interpretation of fate leaves one feeling dissatisfied and even a little resentful. People who are deprived of good luck lament their fate and naturally question why life is so unfair. Why is it that some people have more than they could ever desire, while others never seem to have enough? Why is it that things come easily to some, while others never achieve results however hard they try? Some people are endowed with natural beauty, intellect and strength, while others seem