This past week I had the privilege of helping a friend out at his shop, if you follow my blog you will know this shop as friends café a little food place at the corner of church and Oxford, most of the photos of Church Street the poem and blog has been taken at this place, before our country went into lockdown I saw a pink dinosaur head at the back of his shelve never given it much thought just noticed it every once in a while, when I went for a quick visit or snack, now that I was helping and had permission to go behind the counter, feels like a backstage pass for a concert and the view of the shop changes from customer to shop keeper (well shop keeper assistant stand in) again I was faced with this pink decapitate dinosaur not being able to keep my hand to myself I pulled it out from its cluttered grave of old grandpa and disprin boxes and I pulled out more than I could stay adult for, I felt like a kid playing with a claw crane and I was lucky for I got more than one toy out the merchandiser with my first attempt.
A double gift, what this head was attached to was the body of the Trex and it was attached to a cylinder containing the magical fluid of bubbles.
The pink Trex was a long staff to blow bubbles.
Mustak and I stepped outside his shop and gave life to bubbles some people walking past could not help to smile others walked the long way around the weirdoes with the pink bubble making Trex, others stood outside their shop and just watched as the tiny bubbles traveled their short distances, someone walking past made a quick jab at Mushtaq saying “are you a child playing with bubbles” Mushtaq replies laughingly I want to be a child and kept letting bubbles take to the sky.
That moment captured the difference of being childlike and childish, children often don’t have any guard, don’t know what to fear or who to fear most things is an invitation to explore and everything is seen as magic, bubbles seem to be born out of this Trex staff don’t explain to me how just be in awe that it is happening and that it is beautiful, and if a child cannot take part in the magnificence of a toy or feel pushed aside, the childish side pops up, I don’t know the man that commented and maybe I interpret his intensions wrong but what I felt was that he was childish because he forgot how to play he might even have felt excluded how can you just stand and play, he could not ask “may I have a turn?” again I cannot speak for the man walking past and mean no harm nor insult.
I realized again just that I have this childlike spirit that we all have we all love to have fun and laugh and try things but when that child is suppressed or neglected a more hurtful almost spiteful voice speaks up because he could not come out to play.
I am becoming more and more aware that we are free utterly free to enjoy this world and all its beauty all its splendor all its opportunity, it’s asking us to explore and discover, and it is not an option it is a desire of the heart it is part of what gives the heart life, it is how we express love, and to neglect love is to encourage fear and to encourage fear cause a child to hide and this mutated form of a child comes out as a childish thing, I know I have often released the childish monster just because I feared to be free, afraid of what people might think, the little monster pops out when I felt like I was wronged or left out, the childish me pops out when I forget to be myself when I suppress being in awe and wonder and unguarded when I am not free and childlike.
May you all play with bubbles and see the magic of the world all around us, hope you all are doing well and as always thank you for reading
Peace and Love.