Taking the grandchildren to the circus at the end of the summer holidays is a family tradition. We went on Tuesday. Great Yarmouth’s Hippodrome, is ‘Britian’s last remaining ‘total’ circus building featuring the world-famous water spectacular, built in 1903.’
…different acts…
Some demand strength – supporting myself and others, rock solid, totally dependable. Some are dangerous – I must get my timing right or there could be disastrous consequences. Some demand flexibility, agility, or perfect balance; I must bend, move speedily, not fall…
I’m a juggler… throwing and catching, keeping everything going – people and activities, responsibilities and pleasure, family and friends, work and rest…
…an audience…
Once in that circus ring there’s no place to hide. My life’s lived in the public eye. The audience want me to do well – I like it when they cheer me on, but I know that they can be critical. They judge me, thinking they know my capabilities, expressing their expectations and demands,
…teamwork…
The circus depends on team work – ticket sellers in the box office, popcorn and ice cream providers… office staff, cleaners, accountants…
I can’t perform on my own. I’m not an independent one man show. I’m dependent the support of my friends, family, church … doctors, refuse collectors, energy providers, Andy my car-mechanic… other performers.
…with one man in charge…
The Hippodrome’s owned and run by Jack Jay. He hires and announces the acts, pays all performing and support staff. He’s in charge.
From my faith perspective I choose to hand over ‘in-chargeness’ to my God, Higher Power, personal friend. He’s my manager, my ring-master… advising me of standards and quality, taking responsibility.
…It’s just me…
My day’s act is finished. I take off my circus costume. I reflect on my performance with gratitude, self-criticism… parts of the act I’ve done well; parts I can improve on… appreciating my circus team, my manager.
I look forward to tomorrow, hoping, praying, that my act will be the best it can be.
malcolmsmusings.org 
I was listening last night to “O, what a circus!”, from “Evita”, a scathing commentary of the charade of the life and death of Eva Peron. Is that the contrast of an act with no Ringmaster, no Friend, no Lord?
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Thanks, Bryan. That sounds like an excellent contrast. To quote the song. ‘Instead of government, we had a stage. Instead of ideas, a prima donna’s rage.’ The circus act without accountability, a performance with an audience, but no consideration of, or responsibility to, that audience
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