I remember dancing underneath a thousand colored lights
Nov1
I have so many conversations with Amitai, where we end up at cross purposes, because we have a different definition of the purpose of government in society. I don’t want to discuss politics, mostly because… well, I don’t really care. What I have been thinking about a lot lately is the way that people in the world do, and don’t pay attention to the people around them.
I try to balance a realistic sense of what I can do in the world with simple humility. Which is difficult when I think about the fact that there are over a million people in the world who make less in a day than I spend on a cup of coffee. Is it my job to live a life of monastic simplicity, and give all of my money to causes which help those less fortunate than I? I feel saddled with this overwhelming guilt at having been born into a country, a family that was stable, well off, and not in a war zone. Because I don’t believe in a god who chose me to live here, who chose me to have the parents I have, who has an active stake in my life. I don’t believe that there is any greater meaning in my being here than a random swerving at a molecular level which caused me to exist, and not some other person.
How do I even begin to fathom that? I found this blog through the NaBloPoMo randomizer and it breaks my heart. To read entries from a couple who are embarking on what should be the most joyous journey, to read about their heartache as they have to visit their babies in the hospital. This is real life, and it is happening right now.
I am reading What is the What right now, and I can’t help but wonder at the world. That a boy could walk across a country, could leave his home, could move to the US, be faced not with the wealth, but the waste of this country, and not become jaded and bitter at the very state of the world.