How to Bounce Back

Joy on the riverbank, retro swim caps, and remembering what matters.

There are days when life feels a little murky. Not quite stuck, but not quite clear either.
The kind of day where the answers won’t come and trying to think your way through only makes it heavier.

That was me, recently. So I did the one thing I know helps, I moved. I crossed the bridge to the neighbouring village - my go to place when I need fresh air, a change of scene, and the steady calm of the river.

Right now, the town is alive with the unmistakable buzz of summer. Caravan parks packed with locals and holidaymakers, river swims on repeat, ice creams dripping down wrists. Cafes, the bakery, the sushi shop are overflowing. The annual carnival is in town, which also means the woodchop is about to begin. All the iconic signs of summer are here.

That afternoon, as I followed my usual walking route across the footbridge, I noticed a crowd starting to gather along the foreshore.

Drawn in by colour. By movement. By laughter.

Drawn in by the Hoppers Bounce Dance, a group of performers bouncing and dancing on oversized hopper balls. Fluoro swim caps. Retro swimsuits. Plastic buckets. Bright orange everything.

The crowd was captivated. Locals and holidaymakers lined the grass. Kids clapped. Adults laughed out loud, that deep, surprised kind of laugh you don’t realise you’ve missed until it bubbles up. Music boomed from the portable speaker. The Hoppers flung their arms performing their iconic summer activities – cricket on a hopper ball, anyone?

It was cute. It was brilliant. It was joy, pure and simple. According to their description,

“Hoppers may not change the world, but we always make people smile.”

And standing there on the grass, shoulder to shoulder with strangers, they’d done exactly that.

Joy Brings Us Together

This was community. Colour. Movement. Shared joy - joy made public.

Supported by our local council’s Creative Public Spaces grant, it was a reminder of how much a performance like this can give back. Not just to the performers, but to the place. To the people. To the town itself.

Because an ordinary Saturday afternoon ended up something extraordinary, igniting a spark. A laugh. A nudge back toward something lighter.

Movement as Medicine

Watching them bounce and dance made me want to move too.

It reminded me that movement isn’t always about exercise or output. Sometimes, it’s about energy. About circulation. About connection. And the memory of play, when we all had a hopper ball and bounced our way through childhood. When a hopper ball was our rocket, our horse, our dance floor.

Because when we stay stuck in our heads, life shrinks. But when we step into the world (even just a little), it expands again.

Where the Joy Lands

That’s what this performance gave me. Not direction. Not clarity. Not answers. But presence. Because when life feels heavy and the thoughts won’t untangle, it’s definitely not more thinking we need.

And while we might not all stumble across a dance troupe on hopper balls, joy like that? It’s still around us. In small moments. In shared smiles. In unexpected splashes of colour.

So here’s to those strange, wonderful moments that catch us off guard. That surprise and delight us. To playfulness. To colour. To being part of something, even just by watching.

And whatever this next season holds for you - whether it’s bright and buzzing, or slow and steady, may it include movement. May it include laughter. And may it remind you, joy is never as far away as it sometimes seems.

Sometimes it bounces in, just when we need it most. xx