THE POWER, THE MIRACLE AND THE DREAM - A Beginner's Guide to Lasting Happiness

By Don De Lene

Psychology & philosophy, Personal growth, Religion & spirituality

Paperback, eBook

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2 mins

The Future - 40 Years from Now

The house was huge - early Australian Republic, with classic lines. It was positioned spectacularly on a cliff above Port Phillip Bay, about fifty kilometers south of the city of Melbourne.
Walking out of the downstairs entertaining area onto the terrace and looking through the marble columns of the portico, it appeared the large swimming pool immediately coming into view, actually spilled over into the bay. A clever architectural optical illusion. At the far side of the pool, an outdoor table and chairs had been set up. No need for a sun umbrella, because it was winter and the man sitting at the table was taking advantage of the late afternoon sun.
He looked much older than his fifty-two years. His face was ravaged with deep wrinkles etched into his forehead and cheeks; his eyes bloodshot; his thinning hair disheveled and grey. It was obvious the suit he was wearing was tailored and expensive. However, his shirt was not tucked in or buttoned properly and part of it hung loosely over his exposed belly. His tie was lying behind a chair it had fallen off, after he’d carelessly thrown it in that general direction. A nearly empty bottle of whisky was placed precariously close to the table’s edge. However, he was either unaware of this, or didn’t care.
“Damn!” he cursed, after spilling his drink down the front of his silk shirt. The wet stain saturated the monogrammed pocket, with its initials - J.H.L. They stood for - Jonathan Harvey Lane!

Same time, another place.
He looked down across the steep, bare hills and deep, tree-filled valleys and gorges toward the sea. The Southern Ocean looked deceptively benign from his vantage point - a small veranda of a cabin nestled on the side of one of the many bald-topped hills, about three kilometers away from the sea.
It was late afternoon. He realized he was shivering. A strong, cold wind was blowing on his face and, although he was wearing a thick, polo-neck pullover, the wind seemed to be passing right through it. He retreated to the warmth of the cabin with its open fire.
“What a life! Don’t you just love being here in winter?” he said to himself out aloud, rubbing his hands together in front of the fire.
He looked much younger than his fifty-two years, with his unlined, youthful face and thick, light brown hair, showing just a hint of grey. There seemed to be an air of calmness and self-assurance about his whole demeanor. His bright, blue eyes conveyed a sense of optimism and joy.
Even though the ocean was some distance away and the doors to the cabin were closed, he could still hear the muted roar of the waves, as they pounded the reefs and the beach.
“It’s just about show time,” he said, pressing the button of a remote control device, as he sat down in a cozy armchair facing a television monitor. At a press of another button, a tiny camera, above the monitor, lit up and focused in his direction. A three-dimensional picture formed on the screen and quickly grew to life-size proportions. A man dressed in formal attire seemed to be emerging from the screen.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, as the cameras scanned his surroundings, revealing a large audience, all resplendent in evening dress, sitting in a huge auditorium. “It is my pleasure to announce the worthy recipient of this coveted award - we are now crossing live to Australia to congratulate the winner - Jonathan Harvey Lane!”



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