I am comfortable and peaceful, floating in a soap bubble.
I am encased in a transparent soap bubble. You know how soap bubbles contain all the colors in their translucent shell, well this one does too. I can see through it, at the same time the colors in the bubble are breath-taking. Magical. I am peaceful just watching the bubble around me.
It's strong enough to hold me, just floating along. I am not worried it will break.
It flexes when I sift positions. There are soft cushions to lay on. I have all the room I want to stretch out, to move about.
I can see out perfectly, can hear the noises from outside muffled. Very pleasant. Conversations. Laughter.
It smells fresh and clean inside, well oxygenated air.
It is sunny outside, but I 'm not hot, I am surrounded by the perfect temperature, and so relaxed I might just fall asleep here.
Or sometimes it is starry out. When it is night around my bubble, and I see the twinkling stars and the fireflies. I stand up and try to touch them, but that's silly, the stars are too far away.
My soap bubble is held aloft by hands. Hands of family, of friends, and of people I don't even know. I can't really see everyone's face, just their hands lifted high, bopping me and my soap bubble along. All the people with the upraised hands are happy, chatting with each other, hopping up to get their hands to touch the bubble, giving me little taps to keep the bubble going, gentle taps.
Everyone does their lifting and bopping. Like the Cameron Crazies at Duke, jumping all game, rotating from the front row up to the last row when they tire out, letting others jump up and down. So students are jumping all game for the Duke players.
All together, my bubble stays afloat and light and airy and it keeps moving forward. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower.
This is what I have been picturing these last few days, me in a soap bubble. Haven't intended to, it just has been what I have been picturing Thursday and Friday when I nap.
While at acupuncture Thursday, I daydreamed. The soap bubble was floating in a lowly lit fog, and it was even more restful. I could picture healing breaths of air coming into my bubble, surrounding me and coursing through me healing me from chemo's actions. It was the moist, verdant feel of a rain forest, with no scary animals. Lots of growth.
While napping yesterday, my soap bubble floated over green meadows like Ireland has, over the grass of the low country of South Carolina, and over villages that looked like they are in a Thomas Kinkade painting.
My bubble settled in a grassy-watery area like the south Florida Everglades, floated slowly down the water, and then rested sticking to the grass of the side, letting the slow lazy river flow by. That's where I left it.
You all lifted me up and carried me through these past few days.
Your messages, your food, your prayers, your flowers, your driving, your books, your laughter.
This is the substance of prayer, of kindnesses.
I couldn't do this without each and all of you.
Thank you.
