Dystopia

She lived in the present moment, and her mind was not tangled with regrets from the past or expectations for the future. Every day was a journey, some full of joy and others drenched in sadness, but because she learned from her own mistakes and remained open to the unique path that others were on, all was well. Until she opened the door to her sixteen-year-old's bedroom.

This sixteen-year-old's entire life was built from the love and sacrifice of his family. He grew in a world of nurturing acceptance. In a beautiful balance of success and failure, he was in synch with the universal plan until the balance reached the tipping point.

"Can you tell me about your room?" she asked the boy who was raised in this so-called perfect society.

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"Is that the pasta I packed for your lunch last week?"

"Yeah."

"And the sandwich I made for you yesterday? How is it that every article of your clothing is on the floor?"

"I don't know."

"How can you function at school with half of your papers stacked on your dresser? And your laptop is about to fall off your bed. Where in the world are your pillow cases?"

"I've got it taken care of."

"What's in that mug? Good god, the spoon is stuck."

"Yeah. You have to admit this is kind of funny."
"How in your right mind...?"

"Mom, tell me how you feel right now."

And with this remorseless, sloppy, teenage boy, she lost her footing when it became clear that her utopia could be only be achieved outside. It was when she opened her own door that the present moment became the biggest challenge of all.