“The bubble is gonna burst” philosphy

mama bird

I think it started in high school. Things were going really well. I had my first real relationship–in boarding school terms that meant a boy who I could exclusively pass notes to, see during “studi” time (6:45-7:30 at the gym) and sometimes sneak holding hands.  I really liked this sweat smelling, covered with cologne boy.

For five weeks we were an item.  It felt great and I was on top of the world.  I remember meeting his parents during a midterm break and his mom said to him, “Oh, this is our Melody.”  I floated on clouds the rest of the day after hearing that!

Then the world stopped.  He’d find another girl, an upperclassman who wanted his attention. I felt discarded and unattractive.  What did she have that I didn’t?

That’s the day I adopted a philosophy of life that I’ve been plagued with ever since. This idea that I live in a bubble and at any point in time, it can burst and I will be left all alone, picking up the pieces.

For someone who has claimed to live with a deep faith in God and his love for over 30 years, this statement is not congruent with that belief.  How can a loving God at whim burst happy bubbles of life?

And there lies the tension I’ve lived with since 14 years of age.  As I’ve grown older and ahem, wiser, I’ve been able to reconcile most of the happenings of my life with my core belief that “God is love.”  However, just as an addict is never healed, just recovering, I’m a recovering “bubble bursting” philosopher.  And at times, those old sayings created on an endless feed start circling through my head again.

Heading back to stay at home mom status vs. working has been a dream of mine for a long time.  Now that I’m here, I sit in this tension of waiting for the bubble to burst.  My recordings go something like this.

“This is too good to last for long.  Someone is going to get sick.  Maybe tonight will be the night that Matt and Caroline will have a car accident on the way home from soccer.  My kids are doing so great in school–next year is going to be the year from hell, I know it.  Something is going to break and we won’t have the money to fix it.  I’m not going to wake up and be able to walk. People will see the real me and decide I’m not worth it.  I’m not a good mom.”

The tape reel goes around and around–speaking bubble bursting absurdities that really are so crazy to speak let alone believe.  However, that recording  and belief that good can’t possible be mine for any length of time overrides reason.

destroy qyote

Today as the reel begins to play in my head, I do the only thing I know to do–I tell it “no!” Instead I audibly tell myself, oftentimes during a run, that I am worth all that I have.  I tell myself that there is no bubble bursting God.  I remind myself that I’m on this planet for a reason–and my responsibility is to do the best I can with each breath I’m given.

I love the picture of the bird family–it reminds me that I’m not alone.  Just as these three birds are sitting on the branch, the mama watching over them, so I am.  When those thoughts of all the bad stuff crashing my life begins to weave a web in my mind, I come back to this picture. I have a protector whose not out to get me but rather, to protect and watch over me.

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