Smiling, I approach the sphere.
The size of a terrestrial globe ball, the sphere pulsates, bobbing level with my chest. A play of color flashes through and around its surface, but I can also catch glimpses of swirling patches of color inside of it.
As I draw near, I cup it from below with my hands, without touching, and it begins to expand.
My daughter, Ariana, squeals. "Not too much, Daddy, not too much!"
I laugh and pull away my hands. The sphere contracts. I move my hands close again, but only close enough to maintain some semblance of equilibrium with the circumference, and carefully observe the surface of the pulsating sphere for patterns of color.
My hands oscillate minutely around the expanding and contracting sphere, looking for that one optimal circumference that would allow me to detect that one prized pattern of color. When I see it, I will act decisively.
"Bigger, bigger, bigger!" I laugh at the chorus of voices rising up around me.
Bigger, yes, but not too much bigger. I am careful to modulate the sphere's expansion and contraction with fine-grained adjustments.
As expected, faces begin to appear and disappear inside the sphere as it expands, distracting my attention. Many of the faces are benign; some are not.
The faces in the sphere manifest and reflect my current moods, feelings, emotions, and intentions, both conscious and not so conscious. For just a moment, I am tempted to use my laser-like focus to close off the shouts of encouragement and the peals of laughter.
Instead, I laugh, buoyed by the love and joy that flows all around me.
