Circus Animals


As a child I would imagine that I was as small as this gnome, able to escape from the trouble and stress of home. This urge still lives within me now.

For nearly all my life, I’ve been confused about my true calling.  The higher purpose that would bring me to a career.  Mid life is here with it’s graying and thinning hair, wrinkles, and weight gain.  What am I?  What do I?

Perhaps, a composite rock.

A teeming river of aquatic life.

A mystery.

A ring leader.

A side show freak.

All in one.

Some say the obstacles are our teachers.

So this week, I went to my teachers and faced them all.  Drawing away from compulsive habits, seeking the still small voice.  The space of quiet like a pool of clear water beyond thought.  A silent confidence that everything is always currently okay, even if a storm of

cat pee is raining

a husband is raging

a child is crying.

So a pattern emerges in the way the waves are breaking on my shore.  A chronic illness I’ve been treating with diet alone now requires a befuddling management of stress.

It must be all in the means.  The way I’ve wanted more, and needed less.  The way I’ve cared about things I cannot afford to care about.

What do I?