It's unknown how it happens, how the bubble arose. Some say motion, heat, desire. Others say just blind luck, the chance meeting of random events giving rise to it. Still others say GOD out there – or in some cases – in here: a need for self-expression/experience. However it happens, it happened. The bubble arose from the bottom of the ocean, ignorant of all around it: just one of many bubbles born in the darkness. As all bubbles do, it rises – their very nature seeks the open air above. Somehow what was one substance now has within it space, some lighter essence separating it from everything else. First it moves without purpose, without understanding, self-knowledge, or reason beyond the drive to move upward. At times it gets stuck, bound under some substance, sitting there unable to rise, unable to move while the pressure of the ocean/world collapses upon it. Other times it moves around the unknown objects, be it a current, a slight incline, or just a fluke, the bubble bounces, slides, or breaks through the barrier on its journey upward. In time the world becomes brighter. At first just a vague impression of the world arises. What was completely dark has now become grey with dark shapes loaming all around. Some shapes break the bubble apart while others give it more life, more space: growing and giving it energy/speed. Eventually the world comes into focus: things get brighter, the world becomes clearer. What was dark, indistinguishable shapes, is now distinct images. The world is still without color, but what is attractive and repulsive is now clearly recognized. An inclination arises. What was first random movements, random experiences, is now driven, more intentional shall we say. And still the bubble rises and the oceanic world grows brighter. Rising. Reaching. Grasping. Clinging. Hungering for more bubbles to fulfill it, to grow and become stronger, more solid. Then something happens. Through all the searching, through the continued brightening dawn, a reflection arises. Upon the inner surface of the bubble a unique reflection is seen. At first as a mirage – what's that? Then as an illusion, a dream, a passing fancy: "Me/I" the bubble conceives. Still searching, seeking, hunting but with a twist – what's this inside? QUESTioning. Eventually the external world becomes colored by this reflection. Sometimes clouded, agitated, dense, other times clear, calm, light and soft. The world is out there, the I is inside here. Pleasure and pain take on meaning, depth, realness. A thin veneer separates self from other. Still rising. Sometimes things from above come floating down catching the bubble and pulling it back down into the unconscious realms: pressure, darkness, pain, repression, oblivion. Other times it is swallowed – consumed by its desires – a random fish swimming by. And sometimes it breaks apart, shredded by conflict, opposing desires, environmental stressors, and so on. The closer to the surface, the more violent the world becomes. Vulnerable, everything is an obstacle: currents, other bubbles, external forces, scavengers, hunters, falling debris, rapids, suffering. The brighter the water the more separate the bubble now feels from the world around it, and yet, at the same time a great sense of freedom ripples its' surface. From the depths of the ocean was pressure, now that pressure is gone. The bubble seeks to hold onto everything, anything it can touch and consume – a precarious place to say the least. On one side is the fear of being dragged back down into the hellish depths and on the other side is the fear of losing self, of being pulled apart (dissolution). Up and down the bubble bobs. There is no stable place – no ground. What brings about the great change is as mysterious as what gave rise to the bubble in the first place. Whatever the cause, something happens: the bubble lets go. Sometimes out of exhaustion. Other times it's simply just a drive to be. Some people say disgust is the driving factor. I personally believe it's as simple as just wanting to experience life in its fullness. Whatever the reason, the bubble lets go and starts to rise again. It reaches, nay, not reaches, but arrives at the ocean's surface. And for one brief moment, though some claim it to be an eternal moment, there is complete bliss as the bubble pops, returning: water to water, air to air. In that rapturous moment the bubble experiences complete freedom, joy, abundance as it knows itself not as a Bubble, but as the great ocean and the infinite space that embraces all things.