I think one of the few reasons I am able to pull my head up, out of the water, and look into the clear blue sky today is that tragedy strikes us all and connects us in a way that we should be more conscious of. As I turn on the news today, the accused killer of Mollie Tibbetts is in court. That poor family who lost their vibrant, beautiful daughter in such a violent manner. The world is cruel.
Perspective is important. My small world, consisting of Hugo, my parents and family, our other dog Nala, and a few select friends, is just that, small. We get trapped in our own bubble, for good reason. But I think it’s important to take a moment to actually open your eyes to the other bubbles floating by you. Across the street on our quiet dirt road, our neighbor is slowly dying in front of his wife. Diagnosed with advanced multiple myeloma cancer about two years ago, he first found out about his illness while walking casually through his bedroom mid-morning on a random Sunday. Out of nowhere, what felt like a shotgun shell to his left rib cage struck, causing him to fall to the floor and rile in pain. That feeling was his rib breaking in half, as his first signs of cancer snapped his once strong bone in half. He is not doing well and the slow decline into the great fade is starting to happen. Another bubble is one of my coworkers, Garrett, who was in a bad motorcycle versus vehicle accident about last month. Garret was riding his motorcycle into work, when a moronic vehicle driver cut him off, causing them to collide. Garrett had his foot amputated on Tuesday afternoon. Breathe that reality in for a second.
Even writing about all of the other circumstances I see is helping. And this is just in my little world. I am not a very social person as Hugo and I tend to keep to ourselves and lean on each other. With that said, imagine the heartache occurring every day worldwide. I implore you to look outside of your bubble, have a little compassion and put a smile on your face. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s not that bad.