last week, I blew soap bubbles

for my 18-month old nephew.

He laughed out loud, lit up with delight, at their rainbowed translucence. Then he grabbed the plastic blower loop, put it in his mouth, sucked, and opened his mouth wide as a hungry baby bird's. As if he expected bubbles to float out.

I demonstrated blowing, but he doesn't yet have the breath control. So it became a playful battle to keep the bubbles coming while stopping too much soapy solution going into him.

I thought:

Haven't we all done that? Tried to consume, ingest, what gives us joy? Until we learn that we can't own it. We can only exhale into it, participate in the moment of creation with our living breath.