Specs, Bubbles and Sparkles

Our Perspective- personal focus, directional outlook, our vision of the world. Can we change it? Do we have a choice? Are we locked into a pace not of our own? There is so much volatile, toxic judgement swirling about- it weighs heavy- a dense fog, illuminating the darkness. We have been submersed in its shadow for so long. 

But, regardless of the trauma of the last year- we can walk through the haze together. 

We have to make a conscious choice to walk into a positivity bubble.

So much has taken place this last year. We popped more positivity bubbles than we made. This disheartened us. It caused us to pause in our bubble making.

We seemed to have forgotten that there is always a place that is sunny. Always room for bubbles.

We deserve the warmth and glisten of those rays. The light that glistens. The hopeful wisp of soapy suds generating circular, floating, shiny, droplets of effervescence.  But we have some work to do first. We have to accept our loses and look towards our successes. Our new achievements. Our new avenues.

Bubbles can only take flight if we give the air around us a place to escape. The fields are open.

We just might have to walk a bit further than we are used to, to find them these days. But our avenues are many and our vehicles plentiful. Just open the door, sit down, and start the ignition. 

We might just burn our feet on hot pavement. But we have to endure the sharpness to remind ourselves where we came from.

We need not necessarily climb up a huge hill, or cross fields of lava and ash. But we have to move. Go forward. Progress. As much as we raise our feet, we will drag at times.

We will scuff our pristine white sneakers in the process. Change is messy. It takes bravery and will power. It takes acceptance of imperfection and ignorance. Acknowledging that we often ignore situations. That sometimes we do not know about them. 

But we can't pretend not to recognize our role in them.

We scuffle through at times only noticing the specs. The blemishes, the pocks and scars. We try to cover them up, rather than deal with the cause of them. The specs are what make us human. What make us a civilization. A community. A neighborhood. A family.

We scuffle at times only noticing the sparkles. The shiny, happy moments of joy. The wins. The opportunities and possibilities gifted to us. We celebrate. The sparkles give us hope. They show us that our goals and actions matter. They make us human. They make us a civilization. A community. A neighborhood. A family.

Specs and sparkles do not happen in a vacuum. They rarely occur simultaneously. They do not happen in isolation. They are blended like seeds floating through a forest, creating new life. They are like grains of sand, silicon and rock- smashed to pieces by wind and rain until they are microscopic memories of life. Ever present on our car floors after a day at the beach.

Specs and sparkles are intertwined. Moment to moment on some days. It takes all our energy to persist and sweep them into a pile. Like leaves raked on an autumn day only for a breeze to disperse them again. Specs and sparkles are extensions of us. They carry parts of us.

They embody our thoughts, actions, notions and opinions. They rise in the current and drift in the flow. They dust across great plains and fill up deep valleys. They change the surface of everything. These granules of hope and fear. Resistant. Resolute. They travel. They soar. They rest.

Every scratch they cause, every abrasion they gouge- in the end, they leave a smooth surface ready for the next batch to arrive. We expect them. Their presence means something is happening. That we are experiencing life. I for one welcome the pocks and dents. Scraps and scratches. 

I seek the specs and sparkles. And at the end of the day- I revel in the marks left behind by my day. I am blessed to be able to be out in the world. Day to day living my life as normal as normal can be these days. I know I am blessed and for that reason alone- I shrug off the discomfort and embrace the grains.

I am looking up to a sky full of positivity bubbles. Some may pop before they come close. But I have access to the soapy suds. For this I am thankful.