Juggling

A friend called earlier tonight and told us about her first juggling class. She had a wonderful time learning the art of tossing objects without having any fall to the ground. It's not clear to me why she chose to juggle. It's not as if her family can trace its lineage to magicians, jugglers, or circus performers. Our friend just had "something inside of her," to paraphrase the blues lyric.

I've only known one other person who juggled. When I lived in Rome, I worked with a British woman who had a rather quiet, good humored disposition that masked an occasionally rowdy side. The juggler in her emerged one night after many rounds of something red and local. She revealed that she had some training as a juggler. No one believed it, so she parried our disbelief with a reasonably good juggling routine.

I don't recall how she learned her juggling skills. Yet, she and our New Jersey friend practice a universal art, as old as recorded history, that continue to amuse and fascinate us. Even when we're sober.