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Welcome to the Bubble

Writer's picture: Leigh EbberweinLeigh Ebberwein

To be honest, if you have a blog, I probably haven't read yours. You see, I tend to live in a somewhat sheltered world, I call it my bubble...but more on that later.

When the children were younger we used to blow bubbles just about every evening. The contests would begin, who can blow the biggest bubble? The smallest bubble? The most bubbles? Who can watch their bubble float out of sight the longest? Seemingly mindless, and with little talent, bubbles bring joy. So why the hell don't we blow more bubbles? If you were to quit reading here and go blow bubbles right now, I would not at all be offended. In fact, I would applaud it. Now, you may be thinking, but I don't have small children. So what? Take your grown children, find a neighborhood child or more importantly find your inner child, the one that used to have time to go blow bubbles...but more on that later.

So often you hear older generations say they remember when life was simpler or that they long for the days when everyone wasn't in such a hurry.

Recently, the world was sent into shock as we were suddenly thrust into isolation and quarantine. Fear and confusion briefly entered the bubble! One of the first things we heard was not to be in a gathering larger than 10 people. Having a husband, 7 children, a daughter-in-law and a grandson caused a real panic. Not for me, but for the children. You see in a normal day they can't solve 2+2 without asking for my help, but that 10 person gathering sent their little brains into speedy quick math and they realized one of us was gonna have to leave. Knowing I was safe, because none of them would vote me off the island, I quickly went into Mama Bear mode and wondered, "How does this affect the bubble?"

Well, the bubble doesn't mean I like being alone. It means I like the idea of the simple life. I like Sunday dinners and backyard volleyball. I like hot coffee and conversations around the kitchen table. I like Hallmark movies where the problem of the day is how are they going to fit the whole freaky little town in the church social hall for the annual Christmas Sing-a-long festival without upsetting the fire chief.

When news of a pandemic hit, I quickly wanted to shelter my children from fear. However, I'm not naive, their lives were about to change and I couldn't stop that. Change was coming to the bubble and, well that's OK. The bubble doesn't mean we don't face reality, we just keep reality in perspective.

Pope Francis helped me to realize that we are all in this crisis together and even in isolation we are not alone. We are One Body getting through this one life and we need each other.

So, if you are reading this blog, welcome to the bubble. As I said, the bubble is NOT an escape from reality but where love is shared abundantly. Where laughter spills out of your windows, where neighbors check-in on neighbors, where tears are shared with a friend, where there's always coffee brewing and cold beer in the fridge. Where games are being played, books come off the shelf and there's a puzzle sitting half done on a table.

This post comes as a challenge which I have accepted and here's my challenge to you, go blow some bubbles. I'm going to grab a hot tea and settle down in a comfy chair, next to a sweaty child and I am going to read your blog too....but more on that later.

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