I try not to think about how small I am.
Here are some facts:
- My town has a population of 23,419 (2013).
- My state has a population of 1.327 million (2014).
- My country has a population of 318.9 million (2014).
- My continent has a population of 528.7 million (2008).
- The world has a population of 7.125 billion (2013).
I am one.
I get my data from a quick Google search. Obviously, the numbers fluctuate. There are deaths, births, natural disasters… It’s estimated that 56 million people die every year. That’s 153, 424 people every day. 12,785 people every hour. 213 people every minute. 3 people every second.
Everyone in my apartment could die right now and we still wouldn’t fill Death’s quota.
I don’t like thinking about the millions of people on our planet… a planet which we are slowly destroying, no less. It’s so much easier to think about the one – my, myself, and I. My problems seem so much more manageable on that scale, much easier to think than to think of the 218 million individual souls caught in the turbulent Middle East.
And yet, our world is like a spider’s web, isn’t it? We are all interconnected by thin, silvery tendrils. If one of then snaps, then there’s a greater war, greater damage to our planet, or some other travesty. So as unpleasant as it is, as overwhelming as it is, we must think of the millions, of the billions of others.
As I have been writing this post, 5,964 people have died.
Numbers aren’t always comforting.
“Millions.” – Daily Post, Oct. 21, 2016