Messages from Memories: “Circus”

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By Michael Avery

When we look back upon our memories, we often find gems of wisdom that we missed at the time of the initial experience. Messages from Memories fall into the category of Exotic Waking Dreams. A good example is “The Smile.” That memory carried its message through the corridors of time until I finally heard what it wanted to convey: “We can be happy under any circumstance.”

A poem entitled “Circus” held another special gem. Its messages are self-evident, but I will memorialize them in words at the conclusion of this post.

Backstory

I once picked up a random magazine while waiting for an appointment and absentmindedly read a poem someone had written. I don’t recall the name of the author, the title of the poem, or anything about it except for the very first line, which stuck with me for some reason. The words kept tumbling through my mind:

“There are many ways of being in the circle we call life.”

Every week or so, I would hear the words playing in my head. They had a certain cadence that I found mesmerizing. Then, one day, when I was revisiting the now familiar line, the words changed. I heard myself saying:

“There are many jobs to choose from in this Circus we call life.”

Circus scenes from my youth came to mind: a clown, a juggler, a lion tamer, a man being shot from a cannon, and a beautiful girl taking a bow after performing on the high trapeze. The following poem flowed through those vivid boyhood images. At the time I wrote it, I saw “Circus” as just another fun poem, not as an important addition to the mosaic of my life.

Circus¹

There are many jobs to choose from
in this Circus we call life.
Some require a brighter spotlight;
some command a higher price.

But what matters is the giving,
not the money, not the fame.
It’s what we’ve learned, not how we’ve learned it,
when the tents are put away.

But sometimes I wish I had
a more important job to do.
Sometimes I dream I’m out there
in the spotlight next to you.

I pretend that I’m the bravest flyer
on the high trapeze.
I’m the man who trains the tigers;
lions cower at my feet.

I’m balanced on the tightrope
and they’re cheering down below.
I’m the clown, then I’m the juggler.
I’m the man who runs the show!

Then it’s back to what I’m doing.
I hear someone call my name.
I hear someone say I’m needed
in the Big Top right away.

I clean up behind the elephants.
I put them in their stall.
As for you, I guess you’ll always be
the human cannonball.

But does it matter what I shovel;
does it matter where you fall,
if it’s love that we discover
at the bottom of it all?

When the memory of this poem returns, its two messages are clear. It says:

“Don’t compare yourself with others” and

“It’s all about love on the journey of Soul.”

1. “Circus” was first published in Porcupines at the Dance, p. 81.