Contemplative Exercise

Yesterday a friend gave me some bubbles. I must admit that I have not played with bubbles since the girls were little and I had forgotten how much fun they are. I had nothing pressing to be doing so I took the bubbles and went outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening. Blowing bubbles into the soft breeze and watching them float through the air reminded me of how awesome the simple things in life are. I spent a great deal of time blowing the bubbles and watching them land, wondering whether they would pop as soon as they hit the ground or would they rest in the arms of the lush green grass? Like most such questions in life, I was not able to predict what would happen, where things would land, what would last, and what would disappear immediately.

The bubbles were given to me with the instruction that perhaps they would serve as a vehicle for a contemplative exercise. They were.

Does each bubble represent words unspoken? Thoughts left unexpressed? People unloved? Places unseen? Jobs undone? Prayers offered to God?

Do the bubbles obscure or intensify the grass? Do the bubbles that we all create around ourselves obscure or intensify our perspective on the world around us?

I'm not sure Harley was convinced of the contemplative nature of bubble blowing, but she did find some entertainment value.

Or, maybe I'm wrong. Perhaps she is as fascinated as I am by the contemplative practice of watching these transitory spheres float through the air.

This is straight out of the camera image of the bubbles against the evening sky. Though I think there are instances where Photoshop is a great tool for editing pictures, sometimes what you get is what you need to see. That is the case here. Editing all the images of our lives strips us of the most important pictures of what our world really looks like.
I love this image. Long after my bottle of bubbles is gone, I will have these pictures to remind me of yesterday, today, and the person who gave them to me.