Bubbles near the Heart

Picture courtesy of TommiAnn Tromme

Some pictures are. Just are.

If there is one to capture our escaping from the past twelve months, this is it. Cheery canines, or that magnificent young girl? … Be that. To be one of those reflecting floating fantastics, in between the smiles and joy, would be heaven on earth as well. Bubbles near the heart of that child. Yes, some pictures are. Just are.

It doesn’t have to be just our release from pandemic restrictions, either. To be fair, we’re not as far removed from those woods as she is … running across a green field with passion I wish some adults would have toward popping the covid bubble. She has fight and energy. Joy and love. There’s a direction in her expression I rarely see in worn, half-tired adult faces who’ve lost perspective on bubbles in their lives.

Myself included.

Bubbles in the work we do to support ourselves and those we love.

Bubbles in what we believe about our self-worth.

Bubbles in our relationships with friends and relatives.

These, and many others, have been forgotten. I’m sure you can think of more. We forget these don’t last long – only a short lifetime. Cherishing them must be a priority while we enjoy the oxygen we’re so fortunate to have.

They aren’t perfect. We expect them to be most times, though. This young angel isn’t concerned about perfection. She’s pushing forward into an unknown future. With bubbles as helpful sidekicks, this pink-booted explorer finds her way across imperfect, rolling blades of grass to discover new ideas, colors, smells, or reflections from the beautiful sunlit day. She simply lives the imperfect life of innocence – apart from our complicated adult life of bubble-popping.

It’s just what we’re conditioned to do. And, it’s ok.

Sure, we’ve lost our child-like perspective. This world needs adults to, well, be adults.

Every once in a while, though, maybe you could step away from all of it and blow a few bubbles while standing in a field. Probably, if a few non-pernicious pups are willing to participate, they could join in. An afternoon away from the smudgeness of a workday, or a weekend when the sun is friendly and skies are open to it? Yes, find the time and an inexpensive dollar-store bottle of soapy liquid with a cheap, plastic ring inside. Field your dreams – if only for a few minutes.

This won’t pay the cell phone bill or ward off this crazy covid thing going on, but maybe – just maybe – it’ll help you escape from what ails your adulting bones that can’t seem to move the first ten minutes of every day.

Bones I wish I still had to keep up with the energy this young girl seems to have. I need fresh grass under my feet and a warm, quick breeze across my face … and a few sticky bubbles.

She has what it takes. I don’t know her. Permission was so graciously granted to use the photograph. Having an inkling what this picture represents to her family, I can share a portion of the reply I received after asking: “…I just love sharing her sunshine with the world.”

… And I can add one more bubble to my universe. A bubble I won’t be quick to forget.

Life is difficult. We know this. Look over your bubbles you may have forgotten and see if there’s time to play with them … if only for a few minutes with the passion and energy of a child.

You are you always. You just are – and that’s ok, too. Just like this picture.

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