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Bubbles

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Left to right: Nico and Christopher checking out the otters at a museum 

August 6th, 2013

My life feels like a bubble that formed from the lips of a child who blew it from the tiny plastic wand that he or she held that kept the soapy substance together. The wind picks me up and I float in the air, lighter then a feather. The sunlight shinning off my surface sparking the pixels of iridescence light making me glow like a rainbow for all those who see me, even in the brightness of the sun. 

The air pushes me along allowing me to experience freedom to roam like an animal in the pastures of America’s heartland. Or free to seek out new territories like a wild animal in a great National Park. I  feel safe to embark on these adventures since I am encapsulated in the curvatures of my surroundings where I can feel warm and safe. But this safety is fleeting since my safeness is simply an aberration, These damn surroundings are so unstable because the weak curvatures of my bubble can collapse in on itself disrupting this sanctuary that I created out of desperation. 

The translucent walls shake and shutter in the breeze. The soapy surface just barely holding together. I knew there would be a price to pay in feeling so free. Like the price of fear and uncertainty. The higher I rise above the great plains of my adventure the more nervous I become and the shear terror of my anxiety takes over exposing me in my bare nakedness of vulnerability that will expose me for what I truly am in the environment that I created. This vulnerable state I fear will cause this bubble to burst at any moment shattering my world and sending me crashing violently into the ground. I need to seize this moment and live in this time and place as I move about the earth in my revolving globe before that bubble doesn’t just shatter, but pops before I can reenforce it. The clear view of my cylinder doesn’t give much comfort from the inevitable end. The outlook just causes more anxiety the higher I rise.

Exposing these thoughts isn’t easy because I’m disclosing who I am  and just because these thoughts are disguised in the innocence of bubbles doesn't prevent the knowledge and fears that plague ones daily life. I want to just let go but I don’t want to vacate the only thing that I have known this far in my new life as I continue my journey into the arena of uncertainty. 

I float up higher and higher, the altitude separating me from the pack of other bubbles that are faltering before they gain momentum and preventing them from finding their own freedom of thought and reflection while I witness their dreams ending in the white suds of unhappy endings below me.

But how do I push onwards in such a weak surrounding without the support of a structured house and people who fail to make it to me?

Unless, I can control these emotions and channel them in an efficient manner to help others defeat their own battles so that those that have been exposed to their own hell of life’s daily misgivings will know that they will not be alone in their war and continue on the fight to happiness and self-worth.

Maybe I can reach out and pull more people into my bubble and instead of the weight collapsing us, maybe the weight will ground this bubble safely to the ground so that when it does pop our feet will be firmly placed, allowing everyone to see that their is a happy ending at the end of the rainbow. 

Just maybe my vulnerability is just what others needed to clearly see through their own bubbles of life. 

Written on August 5th, 2013
Published on August 6th, 2013

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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto is a registered copyright, 2012-2013
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Creative Commons License

The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.


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