JetUNsetter

I kept hearing this phrase recently about him or her living in a bubble. It stayed with me for a bit as I wondering “so what”? If the bubble is a way to protect us why not?

It then occurred to me that the main problem is that, when immature in life, eventually, it is not about being surrounded by a bubble but the fact we are not there alone.

We keep a demonic version of our parents in there. We are in that bubble together with the worst version of mum and dad. The bubble is not a means to a safety. Quite the opposite: it allows no escape from the wound.

We cannot really meet anyone not because there is this thin layer of soap between us but because inside the bubble things are so noisy, so busy, so crowded.

Even worse, our smart version in an effort to escape the trap, might connect with anyone who has thorns hoping to get rid of the bubble, only to find wounds being reinforced, pricky relationships will only get us to find a reinforced bubble…

I think the maturity journey is about realising the bubble is there, realising it’s crowded and letting the deamons go. We cannot connect when we keep projecting our first care givers on others, we cannot listen when there is so much noise in our heads reliving every day the battles we did not have or did not win as kids. We cannot find piece nor love if these are not in our heart already.

I was looking at some pictures of me earlier. I was definitely looking younger in those of many years ago, but troubled, grey, miserable. I have a brighter smiler as I grow older and please help me make sense of this one too 😉