I read a passage about bubbles recently. The author, Erin Janoso, used bubbles to discuss the ephemeral nature of life. We are here one minute and then we are gone. She mentioned her daughter’s excitement over the bubble’s apparent dance and ended her story discussing how it isn’t about waiting for the pop but about remembering the beauty left behind. I focused on the dancing bubbles her child loved. My child gets excited over bubbles as well and is close in age to Janoso’s daughter so when she told the part of her daughter loving the dance, a different thought hit me: she’s right it isn’t about waiting for the bubble to pop (whatever bubble may be in your life at the moment), it’s about the dance.
I find myself living a lot of my life like I’m running out of time. I’ve often shared about my anxiety with time as well as fearing I never have enough of it and my tendency to overcommit and take on too much in order to fill up my time with something “worthy.” My son is constantly asking me to play and I do as much as I can. I LOVE playing with him, but life is life and there are things that need to be done (we have to clean sometime, and I’m working on multiple things). But I don’t want to only think of the legacy I’m leaving behind, I want to enjoy the dance now. Yes, the work I’m doing is in an effort to provide a better life NOW, but I don’t want to miss out while I have the opportunity.
Life is ephemeral and it does move at incredible speed. I know I remember things from 30 years ago better than I remember some things from yesterday, but I blink and my son is now entering kindergarten. Maybe it’s because of how long we waited to have children, but time has sped up exponentially since then. You look at things differently when you enter mid-life. I mean, I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise with all the discussion of mid-life crises etc. but it hit differently when you’re in it. You truly view life and time differently and you start looking for different meaning—you start looking at how you spend your time and figuring out what you actually want to do.
So, I know depending on the phase of life we are in, or the experiences around us, the bubbles may mean different things. For some it’s about the memory of what they were and their beauty—for some it’s about looking at their journey. It’s funny, for me, whenever my son and I are playing with bubbles, I always try to blow as many as I can at a time so he can sort of dance in them. I LOVE hearing his laughter as all the bubbles “chase” him and surround him. I love hearing his laughter no matter what. So I am grateful for the perspective on bubbles because it reminds me to be grateful for those moments—not just my son’s laughter, but all the moments of joy we create together as a family. I guess that just means both ideas are correct: time is precious so enjoy what we have while we have it and what we leave behind is just as impactful as our presence. So enjoy the dance—and dance as often as you can. Let that joy and love guide you and be your legacy.