When the circus comes to town.

Having entered the Age of Rice Krispies - no matter what I have for breakfast every morning is snap, crackle and pop - I'm coming to appreciate a sense of perspective.

Doesn't mean that things just flow along like one big caramel macchiato, but my mental habits are beginning to emerge more clearly as my physical decline accelerates. And while I'm still young at heart, the rest of this bio mechanical bag of neurons is beginning to seize up with a predictable frequency.

On a side note, a friend who's reached the high side of forty, recently went doctor shopping for a diagnose of anything that would grant her a regular supply of stimulants. Her main complaints were that paperwork is tedious and she tired every afternoon.

If she's successful, I'll save you a spot in line.

Until then a change in perspective will have to suffice.

Aging is one of those topics where I notice that my mind and ego swing into a Cirque du Soleil routine that would make P.T.Barnum blush.

My mind applies its super power of time travel and routinely slides around the physical evidence, looking through the reflection in the mirror to a time when a much younger face appeared.

My ego slips into a warm, deep pool of denial, insisting that aging is happening to others and is convinced that actually we're dodging the entire process. Using these superpowers, this dynamic duo manage a perpetual stance of shock and surprise at the advancing territory of decay.

Is it any wonder that I covet a Mini Cooper to drive the clowns around town?

A big part of the fun of watching the circus is suspending disbelief. http://bit.ly/pBFI

In this suspended state, for an hour and change, we are transfixed by the performer's death defying feats of grace. They rush to the edge again and again, escaping gravity, time and space, defeating chaos and amazing us with their feats of physical beauty and strength.

They taunt death and win. When you think about it, what's not to love about this?

The mind and the ego are briefly grounded in their twin beliefs of immortality and specialness. We project ourselves into the performance and are relieved of the painful awareness of our mortal insignificance.

As my best friend would say, sign me up!

Noticing the circus that the mind and the ego are staging. The suspension of disbelief is undone and we fall back to this moment.

If you're interested in being here while you're here, you could practice noticing.

When the mind's circus comes to town, launching a drama filled trapeze act to distract from the present moment and the inevitable advance of your demise, you could practice noticing.

Following each inhalation, notice that neither the challenge nor the escape are true.

Neither fixated on adrenaline nor muffled in sleep walking.

The line between triumph and defeat fades.

Practice noticing and the circus music fades.

Gently, the elephants in the room sway. Empty, the trapeze hangs overhead.

No tall shiny boots or cracking whip. The ringmaster breathing in and out.

Sawdust drifting in a sun lit shaft of air.