Vapor

Let's talk about bubbles.

Take a moment and imagine you're opening a bottle of bubble solution. You pull out the wand, take a breath, and blow it out through the wand. Out come dozens of tiny, sparkling balls of refracted light.

They're so pretty, dancing around when the air current takes them. For a few seconds, your vision is dominated by tiny, round rainbows.

And then
one by one,
they pop.

And you're faced with a small, but crucial choice: do you dip the wand in again and watch the cycle of lively sparkles followed by swift deaths, or do you close the cap on it?

This choice can often tell a lot about who you are.

A child would not hesitate to dip the wand in again and again, prolonging the joyful experience again and again, cherishing the strangely hypnotizing choreography of the dancing bubbles. This child is not jaded and will say more, "more, more," until something else catches his attention.

Quite a lot of adults don't see the point of bubbles anymore. They have learned long ago that no matter how long they tried to keep just one bubble alive - through keeping it afloat by blowing underneath it, or catching it with the wand - that bubble will burst.

And something so beautiful cannot help but make us sad to see it disappear.

You see, life is a vapor. Every decision we make carries with it the potential for beauty and the potential for pain. Do I cease taking opportunities that could bring me pain?

Or do I dip in again, and try bringing more beauty to the world?