Tiny Bubbles, Big Light
A New Year Reflection
Someone once described me as “fun and bubbly.”
It made me pause.
We tend to think of bubbles as playful—lighthearted, fleeting, almost inconsequential. We blow them at birthday parties. We chase them as children. We toast with them at New Year’s and call it celebration.
But if you slow down long enough to really see a bubble, it’s something else entirely.
A bubble is breath made visible.
It’s light bending.
It’s a small, fragile sphere carrying every color of the rainbow—only because the sun found it.
Elizabeth Hayes 9/4/95 - 9/25/17
She didn’t float away unnoticed. She left shimmer on the air, reflecting a beautiful light and life.
Sunlight everywhere, and a breath held just long enough to make something beautiful and temporary.
Bubbles don’t last. They float, shimmer, and disappear.
And yet… who among us doesn’t remember the joy they brought?
I think about the way children watch them—eyes wide, hands reaching, laughter unfiltered. I think about how even adults soften when a bubble drifts past, as if something ancient inside us remembers how to play.
As one year floats away and another waits just around the corner, I find myself wondering:
What do we leave behind as we move on?
Are we remembered for permanence—or for presence?
This coming January, I’ll be another year older. Aging, yes—but hopefully with grace. With color. With depth that doesn’t harden the edges of joy.
I don’t want a life that clings desperately to being unpopped.
I want a life that reflects light while it’s here.
Because bubbles were never meant to stay.
They were meant to interrupt gravity.
To lift the gaze.
To remind us that beauty doesn’t need longevity to matter.
If someday I drift quietly out of view, I hope what remains isn’t a checklist of accomplishments—but a feeling. A memory of color. A sense that someone breathed a little easier, laughed a little freer, or felt less alone because I passed through their day.
Tiny bubbles float away.
But the joy they spark lingers.
As this new year approaches, may you let yourself shimmer.
May you reflect light without apology.
May you remember that even the most delicate things can leave the deepest impressions.
And may you never underestimate the power of a life that dared to glow—even briefly.
—
Jen 💙🪷