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The Abundance Bubble

A couple of years ago it dawned on me that I was living in an “abundance bubble.” Actually, a series of bubbles. I was going from my apartment bubble to my car bubble, to my office bubble, back to the car and the apartment… ad infinitum. Sometimes I’d go meet friends or head to a restaurant, but those are abundance bubbles too. I’m surrounded by a certain way of living that involves a lot of unconscious and unacknowledged privileges.

Part of me feels entitled to this. After all, I’ve done the work…

from grade school on, to set my life up to be comfortable. I think I realized early on that I was going to have no one to depend on in life and so I’d better get cracking. My parents were/are always near or in emotional and financial turmoil. All my lovers seem to need me more than I them, and perhaps I like it that way. I think it gives me a (false) sense of control. At any rate, now at nearly 60, I have squirreled way my little pile of comforts and I’m hoping to ride the train into the last station intact.

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