This could well BE called a rather silly, even childish principle or instruction. However, I think it is exquisite and wondrously wise.
Remember, for a moment, reach back into your own childhood, your child/ren’s childhood. Blowing bubbles, whether with one of those slippery pink or purplish wands in a wee bottle or on your/their hands in the bath. Magical. Smile-worthy. DeLIGHTfull and excellent.
The idea of bubbles is extravagant. Like a rainbow. Or the way it feels to stand in a sunshower when across the road there is NOT a drop coming down. Like jimmies and nuts and whipped cream on your ice cream. The second hug at bedtime. The voice of a child sounding enthralled with his or her discovery of something you’ve known for seemingly ever and he or she has just happened upon.
Blowing bubbles when you are sad and overcome with discouragement is a pretty good way to come back into the Right Now. Blowing bubbles makes all sorts of pain less. It allows for taking Life and Self with far less seriousness. [a thing I have done MANY studies on, BElieve me…]
As I find my footing again, after a couple of disengagements throughout June’s end and July’s BEginning, I’m thinking often about blown bubbles.
How light they are and take themselves so…
I love you, Currie