The Circus is Calling

The circus called. Literally.

My phone rang on a very ordinary, unimportant day, which feels important to say. I accepted it without fully grasping what this means. Horses, aerial arts, sweat, and the thrill of performing. I was in the middle of a lyra training session when I heard my phone ring. I accepted the invitation to train and perform alongside them without hesitation. I hung up, set my phone down, walked back toward my rig to continue my session, and it hit me all at once… every emotion. All I could do was cry. Fear of what’s to come, and how my life is about to be COMPLETELY and ENTIRELY changed. Sadness, thinking about the life I’m about to leave, and all the “goodbye’s” I’m about to say. But mostly excitement. This is what I’ve been quietly working towards for years. This is exactly what my entire being has craved.

I’m writing this the day I got the call, to give this journey a heartbeat from the very beginning. I took the rest of the evening to relax. They want me there ASAP to start training for their next show in February, so these next couple weeks (or possibly just few days if I move as fast as they’d like) are going to be chaotic. I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it, but becoming a nomadic performer starts with quite a bit of work, especially when the call comes without much warning. There is a lot I’m leaving behind…

I said yes to leaving behind my comfortable (yet unfulfilling) life. I said yes to leaving behind privacy, stability, and familiar routines. I said yes before I understood what I was agreeing to, before I had time to question it or to be scared. But that’s how you live a life worth living, I think—you work your fingers to the bone for the passions you hold quietly in your heart. The kind of passions that make every day that you’re not living them, hold a void, waiting for that one life changing choice to reveal itself to you. Then suddenly you’re standing on the edge of something glittering and real, feeling the weight of feathers before you ever step into the ring.

I will be capturing the truth about circus life; all the grit and messiness, but also the glitter, the glam, and the art of being a performer.

Looking at a picture of my older sister and I nearly 20 years ago, our painted faces and homemade costumes sewn by our mother, I can see what started it all, and it started with her. She had the circus itch before I even knew what a circus was. I followed along behind her, and that circus itch doesn’t fade.

But this is where it begins.