spheres of all kinds

I went to a homeless shelter today and I’m just blown away by the boundaries of my bubble. It encloses so little—so little—of this world. Even in the richest country of the world, even just a few miles from me, there are these people with next to nothing resources and unfortunately, not enough ability to get out of it. Either from an inattentive upbringing or repeated societal reinforcement, too much has molded their bubble, their hardened and still stiffening bubble. The thing about mine is that it can expand past its present ignorance, but for their spheres of concrete, no patch can stretch into a place I deem passable.

I think that’s the hardest part. To see that nothing can be done. We always think to be spoiled is to be overwhelmed with materialistic yellows and greens, but that’s not all that spoiled is. What is spoiled? It is to have accomplishments that you think you’ve worked hard to achieve, but it turns out the very existence of such possibilities have always been conveniently within arm’s reach…do you retreat from the apples? Or do you grab on and take a greedy bite? What is the "right" thing to do here? Or is the very term, in a world where shapes come in unequal sizes, already rendered moot?

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