I remember when I was the child, playing in mud puddles and chasing bubbles. At some point, I grew older and stopped seeing the magic in my childhood. I wanted to grow up. I wanted more. I didn’t know more of what, but figured I’d know it when I found it.

The problem with “more” is that it becomes complicated. Polluted by the broken world around us. By the time I realize that “more” isn’t what I wanted, I am too far entangled in the web of complications that life has given me. What I want now is “simple”. But I no longer exist in a world of simple.

I watch my kindergartener play with bubbles at my parent’s house. I’m thinking how he reminds me of my younger self, chasing those bubbles. For a moment, I can feel the lightness of his freedom. That simplicity that I miss. I feel sad for my time chasing bubbles that I had wished away. But watching him jump and charge at the bubbles fills me with hope. My children will grow up, that I cannot stop. But I will constantly remind them to seek out simplicity. We will continue chasing bubbles.