Running away and joining the circus

Ever since I watched on television the old Disney movie 'Toby Tyler' I dreamed of running away and joining the circus. If I could just live in a small wagon, juggle a few items, maybe walk the tightrope and all in perfect smiling make up and a tu tu...wow...I would be happy and satisfied.

It is my line when life's pressures weigh on me and I lack the coping skills to deal with tomorrow or the next day.  When a safety net seems not only a good idea, but necessary to catch me when I am falling down.

What is it about the thought of 'running away' that is so appealing.  Does it mean that I will not have to wash my clothing? Pay a bill? Pick up the child? Walk the dog?  Go to work?  Meet the demands that other's have on my life.  What I am I running away from?  What am I running to?

Responsibility.  What a hard, and difficult word.  My sense of responsibility to the others around me is a heavy load.  The responsibility to the children I gave birth to, the man I married, the dog I didn't really want, but have, it exists...ongoing.  Extend it to a job that is challenging, a family that is extended, a world that is expensive and scary-- the weight of all of it seems unmanageable.

Ah...the circus.  Flying through the air, knowing if you drop, you will still be okay (a net is there, after all). The clowns that make you laugh.  The uprooting and restarting in a new city, town, country.  The 'family' that isn't 'your family' (or your responsibility). The challenges physical, not mental.  It seems so attractive, so simple, so uncomplicated.

Conversely I could say 'My current life is a circus'.  The balls I juggle, the objects I balance on, the people I paint on a smile for and hope that they don't see through the 'act'.  The world at large that I am here, on this planet, to entertain.  To suspend disbelief. To give a respite from their own issues and troubles.

Maybe it isn't the circus I want to run away to.  Maybe I am already IN the circus.