The Circus of Life

Have you ever been to a circus? There are clowns, jugglers, tight-rope walkers, trapeze artists, lion tamers and a host of uniquely talented people. They travel around working their magic on children and adults alike, bringing the amazing and the shocking right to your home town. Their life seems glamorous, like Hollywood, and children watch open-mouthed, planning the day when they will take their place among the great circus performers of history. It is a profession as old as the earth, yet never too highly respected. But if we look closely, we might see ourselves a little more clearly under the 'big top'.

We are born into this circus. Our parents were part of the circus, and so of course are we. We are raised and trained in all the ways of being a circus performer from the time we are able to crawl. Juggling lessons begin very early, say three or four. We learn the delicate art of juggling schedules, parents, school and day care. Many children at this tender age, also learn to swing on the trapeze of divorce, going back and forth between two or even three households, hoping they don't slip and fall somewhere in between.

As teenagers, we learn to walk the tight-rope. You start with a pole on the ground until you have mastered the skill of balance. As your skill increases, you are given greater challenges, until you can walk the rope, suspended high in the air, without falling. It would be foolish indeed to send a young person out on the suspended high-wire without first training them in the skill and helping them to decrease the risk of falling. However, my own heart still hurts from the agony of watching some of the best and brightest of young people fall to their death after being sent out on the high wire of life without the safety net of rules, or the patient teaching required to give them the skills necessary to successfully navigate past the danger.

As an adult, it seems like we are riding around a ring on a galloping horse, jumping through hoops that are occasionally on fire. For some people, that would be putting it mildly. Adults have terrific obstacles to overcome in their lives and are sometimes required to perform super-human tasks on a daily basis, just to survive. And, oddly enough, when we have done those amazing things, we still fail to see ourselves as anything but ordinary. Then, after our riding act we have to quickly change costume and become a lion tamer. That's no big deal, right? Just go into the lion's cage, crack the whip, and tell them what to do. Anyone who has been a lion tamer, or a parent knows that it simply isn't that easy. If you don't know what you are doing, they will eat you alive. And even if you do know what you are doing they may still eat you alive. Either way, it's a terrible way to die! Even great lion tamers get wounded and maimed. Even the best parents have a very hard time raising children.

Now, lest you think that this is a little bit depressing, I need to add one more thing about the circus. There is always a ringmaster. Usually, he owns the show, pays the performers and announces the events. He has traditionally been one who had been a circus performer himself and understood the operation from the inside out. Because the success of the entire circus depends upon it, he must be concerned for the safety and success of each performer. He would know the skill of each performer but would also wish to challenge each to be better, in order for the whole show to be better. He would encourage the young to practice. He would admonish the youth to follow directions and guidelines for their own safety. He would encourage the seasoned adult performers to keep trying new things as well as teaching the young ones the rules and tricks of the trade. And, above all, he would know each of his performers individually. He wouldn't ask more of them than they were capable of because he knows that it might mean their death. He certainly reminds me of someone.

Life in the circus is not easy. The risks are many, the rewards few. But every morning when I wake up, I just can't wait to get back to work under the 'big top'. Maybe I'm crazy, or maybe I just discovered that the ringmaster is really my friend, and he wants to teach me how to do everything. And I want to learn everything, just like him.