From the Memory Box 

Issue No 25

I first saw a juggler at a circus when I was still attending primary school. I was mesmerised by their deftness of eye and hand. I recall going home, gathering some tennis balls and trying my hand at it. Try as I might, the best I could do was to juggle three balls simultaneously. Recently, I had the pleasure of attending a Cirque Du Soleil performance in Melbourne. Jugglers were there, and once again I was mesmerised, but now by their deftness of eye and foot - no going home and trying to match their skills this time. 

As I drove home that day, my mind wandered into the realm of metaphors. Specifically speaking – work and juggling! There’s a powerful appeal concerning metaphors. Metaphorical language stimulates the imagination, and emotions and impressions can be vividly expressed via metaphors. Furthermore, metaphors express subtleties for which no standard vocabulary exists, and encourages abstract thinking. Unsurprisingly, there’s an awful lot written about juggling in terms of metaphorical use. 

David Rough, author of Hike it Forward, uses the metaphor of juggling in relation to the competing priorities in his life. Rough begins by calling these broad priorities ‘balls’, and immediately notes that when any one ball is active, another subset of priorities emerges, amplifying the total number of ‘balls’ to juggle. Rough astutely observes the limitations of using the juggling metaphor in relation to our priorities in life, this including work. He notes that, in real life, you can opt to ignore a ball for a time or just give it lower throws so that you can save your engagement for other balls.  In juggling, that does not really happen. In real life too balls have a life of their own.  They are not reliable and subject to the laws of physics.  It is not certain how they will react to each ‘toss’.

Other writers have taken the juggling of balls as a metaphor of balancing life priorities to another level again. For example, the notion of some balls being ‘plastic’ or ‘rubber’ whilst others are made of ‘glass’ makes for interesting thinking. Given that the total number of balls – or competing priorities – we attempt to juggle daily, inevitably some balls will be dropped. 

On this theme, at a Q&A session several years ago, bestselling author Nora Roberts was asked about balancing a career as an author of over 200 books while also raising children. Instead of only juggling, say, 5 rubber and glass balls relating to broad categories, she discussed juggling 55 plastic and glass balls referring to individual topics within broad categories. As with rubber balls, plastic ones will drop and bounce back—though they may or may not get a little scratched. Not so with the glass balls, and you must prioritize catching the glass balls.

The inevitable challenge that we all then face, using the ball-juggling metaphor, becomes knowing which are the glass balls. This brings us to another well-known metaphor – that of ‘low-hanging fruit’. Accordingly, to this metaphor refers to tasks and goals that are well within our reach and demand little time, effort, and resources for completion. There is a usefulness to this metaphor, but also a limitation. Low-hanging fruit is not always the most nutritious fruit on the tree, notwithstanding its ease of access. The glass balls may or may not be the easiest to juggle successfully, but they are the ones you can least afford to drop.

By the time I arrived home, I had had enough of metaphorical balls bouncing round in my mind. With work looming the next day, my priority was to have an adequate amount of uninterrupted sleep. This, to prepare myself well for a day of juggling work balls, an increasing number of which are made of glass rather than rubber.