my bubble

an excerpt from a book I'm reading: "In my search for power, I became a control freak, a people pleaser, a perfectionist, a tough girl, and a princess in a tower. Do you see yourself in any of these categories?"

uhh, let's just say, 4 out of 5 ain't bad...

"...realize that they are masks that prevent you from getting to the root of your pain."

yes, we all wear masks sometimes. some of us more than others.

I like to think of it as...living inside my Bubble.

My bubble is what protects me...where I hunker down in survival mode..my defense from judgement. No one can hurt me when I'm inside my bubble. Alongside me in my bubble, keeping me safe, I keep these 3 things: (1) words of God's truth, spoken directly to my individual heart, my own unique personal mess, (2) words of my own real honest truth, and (3) words of truth from trusted ones. Inside my bubble I can bask in these affirming words and the presence of God's spirit, no matter what's going on or being said around me. They can't hurt me when I'm in my bubble.

Sometimes my bubble looks light and flowy, nice & sweet, smells like baby shampoo. that's how i hope i look and smell....to the un-trustables.

But other times, when I'm alone, or on a run, or jab-cross-jabbing in my boxing class, my bubble becomes a hard, super-bouncy, bouncy ball,

hot neon orange, bouncing, banging, wildly off the walls,

ricochet like an angry bullet,

while my own drops of salty anger pelt the pavement like splattered blood

all my hurts, pain, sadness

become food for fury

in this fiery furnace of my hardened heart

watch what you say

careful what you do

or next time....

I'm in something like this...

 

...but remember, it's just a mask.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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