Bubbled

Some of life incidents leave a shimmer in memory and when they recur in mind the body responds deeply with the feeling. Maybe all of life is like this, on some level, but some events are just, well – more shimmery.

Being encased in a bubble was one of these. I can't remember details of the situation now – it might have been a clowning workshop and the experience of having once been a clown  - but I do remember standing in a pool of bubble solution. Inside a hoop. The hoop was then drawn up in a smooth swoop; a bubble came with it; I was inside the bubble. Looking out.

There wasn't the mesmerizing sight of reflections on a sphere, the breath-holding fact of fragility, that one has when looking at a bubble floating in the air. No. This was quite different. Heart-stopping in a different way. I almost wanted to close my eyes and just feel the bubble as it surrounded me but it was just too exciting to miss seeing so I think I even forwent blinking.

I don't think we were given the chance to experience it more than once, seems to me there were people lined up, waiting. It only lasted a few seconds but those few seconds lasted an age. You know what I mean. There was also a scent. It wasn't soap. It wasn't anything I had smelled before or since. Maybe it was the fragrance of magic.