Once upon a time…
I paused. That was all I had so far. My son asked for a bedtime story, but we were all half asleep. His father dropped them off, ready to leave for the Netherlands to begin his new job. It is just me and my two boys now.
Uh… there was a… bubble.
Where is this going?
The bubble mosied through the water, deeeep in the ocean.
As in deeeeply asleep.
She started to get worried. She was lost and didn’t know the way home. In fact, she didn’t know which way was up.
Oh how I know that feeling.
The little bubble struggled against the currents.
Intruding in on my thoughts were the same terrifying worries. Maternal instinct. What will happen with my boys if I get sick? Who would I call? If I had a kidney infection again, and I couldn’t get up off the floor, and I couldn’t get to the store for food. What would happen if the car broke down? If I got into an accident? Should I create a stash of food and tell my children how to find it in an emergency? What am I thinking? I’m supposed to be telling a story.
I looked at my son’s face in the glow of the nightlight, so beautiful. I’m all he has now for a thousand miles.
Tried to keep telling my story without crying. My face hurt from crying. I couldn’t think of bedtime stories anymore, because the only story going around and around in circles in my mind was the story of the mother and her two boys trying to make it.
The bubble searched for her place of belonging, but every path she followed only led to more empty ocean. The great sea pressed against her, but she swam further and further, hoping to find a clue.
Then I remembered a prayer. One year ago, I asked the universe to make me into the best mother possible and send into my life someone who would make a good father. I went to a kirtan and wrote my prayer on a slip of paper, folded it carefully, and placed it in the bowl, where it was later burned in offering. “Do whatever you need to do, Universe,” I said, and surrendered everything to the Divine.
Maybe the Universe has just been doing what I asked.
One day, a powerful current brought the bubble closer to the shimmering light above, and she saw the sky. Right then, she knew.
“That’s where I am from,” she said. Her surface glistened and undulated with joy. A moment later, the current swept her down. She tumbled in circles and was soon lost again.
The light above faded, and all was dim. The bubble longed for the sky.
“How will I get back to that beautiful sky?” she wondered. Surrounded by an infinite expanse of water, she grieved.
A jellyfish floated by. “Jellyfish? Jellyfish?” she said, “Do you know the way back to the sky?”
The jellyfish slowed its sinusoid canter.
I didn’t use that word in my actual bedtime story, but I couldn’t help but use it here. Although my six year old does know what a sine wave is.
“Why would you want to go there?” he said.
“The ocean is pressing in on me,” said the bubble.
“What’s the ocean?” asked the jellyfish. He didn’t know what the ocean was, because he’d never been anywhere else.
At this point, I was drifting off, imagery of jellyfish lulling me to sleep, but my son urged me to go on.
The bubble kept struggling, but one day she realized that if she just surrendered, if she completely stopped struggling, her whole being would move upward. Soon, she could see the sky again.
The more she relaxed, the closer she moved towards the sky. All she had to do was stop worrying.
Slowly… slowly… she began to rise. Closer and closer to the sky. She moved up… up… up… until ptht!
To my dismay, instead of falling asleep, my son started laughing hysterically. “Do it again!” he said.
Slowly, she began to rise. Closer to the sky. She moved up… up… up… up… PTHTHT!
He laughed even harder, so hard that it even made me laugh. Then my three year old began to laugh. “Again!” he said. I repeated the conclusion several more times until we were all in stitches.
She stopped worrying, if only for an hour, about being a full-time single mom. She picked herself up off the floor. Slowly, she began to rise. Regaining her strength. Up… up… up… PTHTHT!
Audio Recordings
My six year old retells the conclusion of the bubble story in two storytelling voices. In the movie trailer recording, my three year old chimes in with his version, which makes absolutely no sense, but it’s really funny.
