May 15, 2017
How often does someone see the world from a different view? A better one? A daring one? A higher one?
A city seems so quiet, streetlights winking at you from above, but you see no movement, almost as though life doesn’t exist there. Streetlights on highways illuminate paths carved into the city’s heart, mapping out every edge and curve of the town. Cities glow from below, a halo of light doming around their limits and its surroundings are pitch black, invisible to the naked eye, save for the occasional, singular house light.
You would never think much of what its inhabitants do for a living, their socioeconomic status, their cost of living, their food desert, their daily struggles, their contradicting, controversial views, their civil injustices. You can only guess how many of those hundreds or thousands of people know each other, associate with one another, how they better or worsen each other’s days. You don’t know how much each person contributes to the workforce or to non-profit organizations that save the animals or how conservative they are about water and nonrenewable resources.
You know absolutely nothing from where you are.
You can think only of the sheer size of each city or town, how far its limits reach, estimate the population and be amazed by how right or wrong you were.
And when you’re back on their level, see them objectively because each person, each city, each region, has a unique and powerful purpose for being there in the first place.