Floating

There have been times in my life when I felt like I was floating.

I'm not an artist, and I'm not even much of a doodler, but I remember exactly where I was in the summer of 2010 when I drew what it felt like. I was living in El Salvador, doing a summer internship for 3 months. It was a crazy experience for a number of reasons and I remember at the end of summer drawing a cartoon Kristen in an over-sized dish-soap-style bubble over a desert filled with threatening prickly cacti. I distinctly remember this crazy feeling of happiness, like it was too good to be true. The feeling of life being great but it all melting away any second, like an ice cube under the summer Sonoran sun.

And I'm not talking like, "Oh this is a fun weekend." I'm talking about the stuff dreams are made of. Moments when you forget you live in an imperfect world filled with responsibilities and tomorrows. Because the reality is that most days don't feel like that at all. Even the good ones.

I can remember other times since, in Grenada and Redlands, and here in Phoenix too. They are moments when life seems somehow suspended. When the happiness of the moment overtakes the uncertainty of the future, the bills of tomorrow, the sorrows of yesterday.