Processing

Lately it feels like I have had time to process everything going on in my life. I’m sitting in the middle of summer after COVID. One big event after another is being strung together..

Two Fridays ago, I was with my brothers, basking in the glory of a beautiful camping trip in the Rockies and nursing a hangover from red rocks. The next morning, I met with Brian and Katie to formalize our new partnership in Art Bloom. By Monday, Katie’s first ad campaigns were live and I was out to dinner with my Dad while he was on a layover in Denver. The next day, I caught a flight to DC for a jam packed but inspiring trip for work. Thursday night, I got home and lay in bed, exhausted but happy to be with Liz for the first time in what felt like a while. We talked about me proposing to her. The next night Justin was in town, and of course we hit the town.

Today, I process.

Desensitized

Take this post for what it is. There is no existential lesson I , just an observation.

Pretend you live in a beautiful utopia, with cherry blossoms and underrated Cuban sandwhiches. You’ve never seen someone homeless, or even heard of the concept.

One day, you pass a man in tattered clothes, unconscious on the street. What would you do? You’d be shocked. You’d run to them and try to help. Maybe even call 911. You’d ask: What could have possibly happened to this poor person to get in a state like this?

The next day, you see two. What has happened to these people. Is there an epidemic of some sort? What has gotten them in this shape? You would see what could be done to stop this immediately. A trend like this would feel concerning… is there a drug problem? what if it happened to me? It must be raised at our utopian raise it to your Utopian community.

2 years later, and you’re at 100. And what would you say?

“Someone should do something about this.” “I want them out of my neighborhood.”