Bubbles


I love bubbles.

Bubble baths that smell of lavender, bubbles in fizzy drinks fascinate me, bubbles show life with fish and babies learn to blow them and make themselves jump when they pop.  Soap bubbles are soft and cleansing, while there are world records for bubble gum bubbles.  Magicians create bubble tunnels and rings they can climb into and muddy puddles just beg to be jumped in making bubbles of their own.

Life can be a bubble, specially a this time of year when we all cozy up in our own homes with blankets and central heating and family around us.  Religion can also be a bubble for some.

I often relate a depressive episode with a personal bubble.  Its a totally isolating time that no one sees or feels except me.  From inside its similar to being under water with muted sound, blurred vision and pressure all around.  The pain is intense and unrelenting, the stress too much to bare and i can barely get out of bed some days.  The bubble that is me quickly becomes a bubble within a bubble as I close up the house too.  Unable to go outside, look into peoples eyes or face the sun.  Sometimes the only one who can reach me is my son.

I want freedom from bubbles, I want to be free from the trappings of the enclosed life.  There has to be more to find and more to see.  Please let me be "awakened".