Sometimes I think my mind is a bubble machine.
Thoughts appear from nowhere.
One moment I’m thinking about what I’m having for dinner. The next, I’m remembering something that happened twenty years ago. Then an idea for a new blog appears, followed by a memory of my father, a conversation I had yesterday, something I need to do tomorrow, and a completely random question that has absolutely nothing to do with anything.
Bubble.
Bubble.
Bubble.
They float around for a while, bump into each other, change direction, and eventually disappear. And then another one appears.
For a long time, I thought I needed to control all of this.
I tried to organize my thoughts. Finish one thing before starting another. Solve problems before moving on. Understand why I was feeling something before allowing myself to feel it.
But the older I get, the more I’ve realized that perhaps the mind isn’t supposed to be perfectly organized.
Maybe thoughts are supposed to wander.
Some thoughts are important.
Some are completely ridiculous.
Some deserve our attention.
Others can simply float away.
The trick, I’ve learned, is knowing the difference.
There are thoughts I’ve carried for years that probably should have disappeared a long time ago. Old disappointments. Conversations I wish had gone differently. Things I said that I wish I hadn’t. Things other people said that I somehow allowed to take up permanent residence in my head.
Why do we hold onto those bubbles?
Perhaps because we believe every thought deserves an answer.
It doesn’t.
Sometimes a thought is just a thought. It arrives. We notice it. And we let it go.
I’ve also discovered that some of the most interesting ideas arrive when I’m not looking for them. A thought drifts into my mind, catches the light for a moment, and suddenly becomes something worth exploring.
That’s how creativity works for me.
A bubble appears.
I don’t always know where it came from or where it’s going.
I just try to follow it.
Maybe that’s why bubbles have become such a powerful metaphor in my life. They remind me that I don’t have to control everything.
I can create.
I can observe.
I can appreciate.
And I can let go.
My mind will probably always be full of bubbles.
Memories.
Ideas.
Questions.
Worries.
Dreams.
Some will pop quickly.
Some will float for a surprisingly long time.
And every once in a while, one will catch the light in exactly the right way and become something beautiful.
Perhaps the art of living isn’t about emptying our minds.
It’s about learning which bubbles to follow…
which ones to enjoy…
and which ones to simply let float away.