I guess we’re all in our own bubbles. People get close enough to be part of them sometimes. Some people introduce us to stuff that changes what our bubbles contain: new music, different emotions, some type of art that resonates with us. Some people grow so close that our bubbles merge and sometimes for our lifetimes.
I guess we’re all in our own heads and worlds and I guess I rarely ever looked up before God began to tell me to.
Today, He moved my heart to think of who I am to people who will never know me. My bubble is far too cloudy and the time far too short for them to get close enough to notice the laughter lines already forming on my face; to notice my mottled enamel and how at times my insecurity about it manifests itself in an awkward tight-lipped smile. Faces I would never see again in my lifetime course past me daily. Earphones in; eyes a stormy reflection of the zillion thoughts zipping through my mind. Mind too cloudy to notice this brief moment where our bubbles touch. When perfume scents are clear and breathing seems slower.
I have began to look up, and out. I grin on some days and, on others, only briefly manage a flashed up turn. Sometimes I look into strangers eyes when thanking them for acts of simple courtesy or chuckle with them when sharing a funny moment only we saw. Other kids in the library, the Uni staff, people in trams and buses, strangers at the stop light, friends, teachers I’ll probably never be taught by, my reflection: for these I try to keep my bubble walls thin.
I’m widening it, I guess. It sounds weird to say so with pride. I began paying attention and, it turns out, this little creation of mine; my stuff, my music, my emotions, isn’t half as exciting as promenading with the Spirit through His creation. Turns out that paying attention is an art; and it really resonates with me.
-Muggling on a friend’s request.
Late Latenight Movies
**Header image taken by my superb younger sister Serita Namunyak. Blog and other arts works oncoming.**