The Stapletons

When I was a belly dancer in Asheville, NC, my route to the dance studio where I spent so many hours let me down a hill below the back of the Asheville Civic Center. One day the circus was in town, loading in. I could smell the elephants, the sharp high scent of hay and dung, and see the roadies wheeling in huge black cases. I bought a ticket later that weeek, and went alone to watch the aerialists spinning through the air in a whirl of dazzling sequins, the equestrians, the families of wire walkers and tumblers. Part of me had always wanted to run away and join the circus. I wanted to join them, but I knew I was waiting for something else. I wanted to get married and have half a dozen children. I had no idea how that could happen in a city full of polyamorous swingers and a state full of farmers, many of whom I had met, none of whom were even remotely interested in me. Then I met Casey, who married me and swept me away to Pittsburgh, where we began producing half a dozen children. Halfway through, I stopped dancing. It was just too hard to find the time and energy for classes and performance. On our honeymoon, Casey attended his first ever Brazilian jiujitsu class with the original Gracie family in Torrance, CA and fell hard for BJJ. He too kept it up until we had 3 kids, and started making music, and then he spent 10 years meaning to get back to class. There was a point in the midst of taking care of babies where it felt impossible to imagine doing the things that defined us in the past- but now we have big kids who are incredibly helpful. And now once a week we are training together. Casey is on the mats, I’m attempting (and often failing) to hoist myself onto the aerial silks. There are seasons in life, and they alter. All of which makes me wonder- is it really too late to join the circus?