My Circus

In this circus, there are a lot of characters with unique skills. They have all worked very hard to master their craft, whatever their craft might be. Some have devoted their lives to climbing the very high, red-and-white-striped pole that supports the center of the big-top tent. They can swing from a trapeze and feel the rush of adrenaline as they fly through the air. Some work closely with the animals, training the elephants to sit, stand, and bow and teaching the bears to ride tiny bicycles while wearing pink tutus. The commonality between all these characters, from the strong men holding barbells to the ballerinas standing on the backs of prancing horses, is that they all think they are the star of the show. They are all competing for the spotlight. There are bright lights, smoke and mirrors to create illusions, seats for hundreds of people, balloons, and popcorn enough for everyone who comes to watch.

The clown is the focus of the show in the beginning to open with introductions and is there at the end to clean up after everyone has gone home. Somewhere in the middle of the show, things get chaotic and quite often all of the activities the clown has been participating in become a blur because they are not as memorable or celebrated as the activities of the other characters. Characters come and go; each of them doing what he or she does best. The clown is the one to transition them in and out of the center ring as she goes mostly unnoticed, unless of course a diversion or alibi is needed. In my circus, my role is the clown. I catch myself going through the motions of life without paying much attention, just doing what I am conditioned to do. The clown helps to pack up the circus as it moves from venue to venue, city to city. Eventually every place starts to look the same to her. I catch myself mindlessly packing and unpacking all my emotional baggage as I move from place to place, from home to work, from work to the school, from the school to the daycare and then back home, without paying much attention. The activities I participate in become a blur, just like the clown's.

Characters come and go in my life too and much like circus performers, they all feel they should be the main focus. My boss thinks my main focus should be work, my children think I don't exist apart from them and the bank thinks my first priority should be finances. My doctor asks why it has been so long since I've been in for a check-up and then proceeds to give me the same lecture I've heard a hundred times before — the one about the importance of taking care of myself. Inside, I want to scream, "You don't live my life! When I figure out where to get this mythological spare time I hear so much about, I'll be in to see you!"

Most of us, at least once, has felt like the clown; that we have been taken for granted, pulled in every direction, crammed into a tiny car with about twenty or thirty other clowns, and forced to do tricks. This can be a difficult position because after a while, we could start to see ourselves as others see us — as an entertaining character and nothing more.

Creating a Persona

A clown spends hours every morning inventing herself, deciding who she will be this day. She may choose to be scary, with small, black, beady eyes; to be cute, wearing baby bonnets; to be simple, with traditional red hair; or to be extravagant, with a colorful jeweled costume. She understands that the value of a clown is determined one hundred percent by her outward appearance. People treat her as she looks, laughing at her when she is funny, smiling at her when she is cute, and screaming when she is scary.

Like the clown, I also spend hours each day inventing myself. I think about what impression I want to give and I match my appearance to it. I have grown to place more and more value on this impression because people also treat me as I appear. I have noticed that I get treated with more respect when I wear my designer tailor-made power suit to office meetings than I do when I wear my superhero costume. Regardless of my appearance, I am the same person — with the same ideas, skills, and abilities — I make the same contributions. This is kind of disheartening because I would think that a superhero would really be an asset to any team.

In this world, far too many people are valued to the extent of their appearance. If someone is wearing dirty, tattered clothes, she is often treated as less valuable and less worthy than someone wearing a business suit. Let's be honest here, if a man approached you, told you of his dire circumstance and asked you to give him money for the bus, how would your stomach feel? Would you be afraid? Would you look at your feet as you step up your pace, saying "No" as you pass, or worse, not even acknowledging him as you continue on your way? What if the person asking for money was a lady wearing a pretty dress? What if her hair was smooth and her makeup pristine? What if she told you the exact same story? Would you pay more attention to her words? Would you be more likely to help her through her challenge? It doesn't seem fair does it? How many times has this happened to you? How many times have you done this to others? Most of the world has heard the phrase "do unto others ..." If we treat others the way we want to be treated we could quickly notice that people are acting and speaking in a more respectful manner because they too are feeling more respected. The clown would not be seen as a supporting character but would be recognized as a main character and would be given all the fanfare associated with a starring role.

Paint On a Smile

Once all the material things are in place and the clown's costume and face are just right, that's when she paints on her smile. She paints it to mask any feeling that might be behind it. With the smile painted on, no one can see her bite her lip as she anticipates a fall. No one can see her lips tighten as she winces in pain. She never appears to get hurt, she always laughs and has fun and she always bounces back with the same smile.

For the same reason, I paint on a smile. Most times, I feel like I am not permitted to have real feelings. I hide behind a smile because that is what I feel is expected of me. I put my true feelings aside and act exactly the way I am supposed to act and say exactly the things I am supposed to say, never rocking the boat or making waves.

A lot of us paint on a smile because we are afraid of being judged by others, making us feel that unhappiness has to be justified in some way. We look at our own situation and say half-heartedly, "My situation isn't that bad"; "I don't feel that overwhelmed"; "Other people have been through worse things." When we place qualifiers on emotions we are judging ourselves and forgetting that when people feel, we feel one hundred percent regardless of the reason why. Sad is sad, fear is fear, happy is happy, period. When someone is excited about a new job, he or she is just as excited as someone who has found out that he or she is cancer-free; excited is...