There are many different kinds of bubbles: Soap bubbles that jump out of steamy, hot, dish water; simmering, bubbling sauces and soups that gurgle, letting you know something tasty is on the way. Then there are personal bubbles that house your comfort and trust, and its a wonder that these fragile areas aren’t popped as frequently as the ones we encounter on a daily basis.

Growing up in northwest suburbia, I’ve come to realize that I’ve lived in a bubble. Growing up in the midwest, sheltered from the coast is yet another bubble. Then the next bubble is living in America. When we see those sad stories and pictures of life different from ours in the media, we are so wrapped up with in the exponential set of bubbles, it doesn’t even begin to permeate. Oh yes, we are sad that people are hungry, or under fire, or living unjustly; but not sad enough to leave our safe little orb. We’ve got ourselves wrapped in these bubbled enigmas so tightly, we’re becoming closet cases.

How can one of the most powerful nations be full of closeted individuals? How can we start popping the bubbles and reaching outside of our comfort zones to allow another human being some comfort of their own?

Published in: on September 23, 2010 at 9:40 pm  Comments (4)  
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4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I’m grateful for you because of this good written content. You definitely did make my day :

  2. I usually don’t post in Blogs but your blog forced me to, amazing work.. beautiful …

    • thanks for all the support, couldn’t be more grateful you guys checked this out!

  3. i see what you did there

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