I was recently accused of living in a bubble, blissfully unaware of life’s realities beyond my immediate surroundings. My gut reaction was denial; after all, I believed my past struggles made me empathetic to others’ plights. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was truer than I cared to admit.

After a lifetime filled with various challenges, I intentionally crafted a peaceful home, meticulously curating my surroundings to reflect that tranquility. What’s wrong with that? If I could, so could anyone else who puts their shoulder to the grind. Sorry, not sorry.

Still, there was this niggling feeling in the back of my mind. In the pursuit of peace, I inadvertently shielded myself from the struggles of those just beyond my doorstep. People and activities I never thought I’d have anything to do with were a stone’s throw away, and it took a wake-up call from someone close to me to recognize the limitations of my perspective. This person wasn’t begrudging my nice house or what I had created, but rather that I had disconnected to such a degree that I was out of touch with how others live and unaware of the challenges people were having not that far from my front door.

That was a stark wake-up call for someone who claims to want to serve! Turns out, there is a pretty lively drug scene, homelessness, and fight clubs not too terribly far from me. I took a little field trip in my neighborhood and learned about some of the streets I had passed by over the years. Once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it - but the question remained - how had I missed it? Could I really be so naive? Or was there more to it? 

It was a jarring revelation prompting deep reflection and prayer with God. As He always does, he presented an opportunity for me to get out of my bubble. Apparently, it was time to get uncomfortable and grow. 

So, I signed up for a new adventure, immersing myself in a neighborhood I had usually avoided. The transition wasn’t easy. I’ve grappled with feelings of shame, discomfort, and fear and confronting my ego and privilege. I’ll admit now how much I immediately missed my bubble, and railed at those who were still enjoying it, which reinforces exactly what I had been accused of and realized with full force that THAT was the point. 

I have found moments of connection and the reminder that I could experience peace without the trappings of material comforts. I’ve practiced shedding judgment and embracing things that felt uncomfortable or different without judgment. 

Where I had been holding out for when I got to go back to my bubble, it’s no longer about that. I discovered that the essence of community and service was about creating my own sanctuary in a humble apartment just as much as extending kindness beyond my familiar bubble. The lesson was clear - true connection requires awareness, empathy, and a willingness to step out of my comfort zone. 

Once upon a time, someone called one of my early humble apartments “ sanctuary.” I was elated as it felt like I had attained that long-held dream of creating that type of space. Today, I think what a miracle it would be if someone felt their time with me felt like sanctuary - not my house, not my stuff, but how they felt when they were with me. 

I invite you to reflect on your own bubble and consider the beauty of expanding it to include others. Through discomfort and vulnerability, we can find deeper connections and a sense of purpose that transcends the confines of a comfortable life. 

Cheers to your expedition to self ~

Audrey