The Boy with the Bubbles

I was taking a walk recently and saw a boy standing in his driveway blowing bubbles. He had brown knickers on and a shaggy blue shirt. He looked to be about six years old. His hair was dark and his eyes intent. Bubbles.

My sidewalk steps neared his bubble terrain and I noticed a faint sound of speaking coming from his mouth. His sense of personal space, some imaginary drama, was apparent and I obliged to cross the street and walk on the other side.

It was a kind gesture on my part, but not entirely sincere. I was actually quite curious what he was experiencing and feared that my nearness would squash it. I slowed down and leaned into his mumblings as I passed by. To my surprise, I found that he was talking to each and every bubble until it popped, and then he would start again.

Blow the bubble.
Forge a connection.
Let the bubble pop.
Start over.

I marveled.

Have I ever seen someone so successfully living in the present? I mean, why forge a connection with a bubble that is going to pop? And why not blow your brains blowing a thousand bubbles all at once?

Living in the present – on display.

I have been very busy the last few months. Racing, chasing, pushing, striving, diving, cartwheeling – to get stuff done.

This season, however, I want to stop and take a lesson from the boy with the bubbles. I am challenging myself to be present; forge a connection with whatever, whomever, is in front of me.

This is a my season’s greeting: The boy with the bubbles invites you to step out of the raw current of stress and engage in the moments of your life.

Friends, let’s not let “busy” rob our joy or validate our excuses for misery. Let’s determine to enjoy ourselves – one fleeting bubble at a time.