Just another Saturday morning...

at West Chester Friends School Gymnasium: time and place for our regular Turks Head Jugglers practice session. And here's a report on that:

I'm battling a nasty head cold and probably wouldn't have gone to the gym at all this morning(too little energy to practice much and fear of infecting someone else), except that I hadn't arranged for someone else to unlock the door and monitor the group's activities. So I grabbed a sudoku puzzle and headed out. (I didn't take my prop bag, as it would only provide temptation to start practicing in earnest, and I didn't want to expend the energy.) Picked up a coffee on the way, and promised myself I would cruise back on home as soon as another member of the THJ Executive Committee (i.e., someone else with a key) showed up to run things.

So at 8:45 AM, I was sitting on a chair in the gym with the puzzle in my lap, sipping my coffee. And that's when the magic started.

Travis was first to show up. We exchanged a few pleasantries and he began unloading his prop bag. He's a long-term member of the Committee, and with the gym safely under his supervision, I could have left then and there. But I hadn't finished my coffee, so I decided to hang around for a while. At least until I finish my coffee.

Christian showed up next, and even though it wasn't the "official" 9:00 AM starting time, we already had 2.5 jugglers in the room. ("Hmmm," I thought, "at this rate, we're going to have a nice-sized crowd!") He smiled at Travis and me and started practicing. As is so often the case, Christian spent his time polishing juggling patterns that were already beautiful. And the beauty comes not from the patterns themselves, but the way in which Christian performs them. The elegance and (seeming) simplicity with which he juggles is unlike anything I've ever seen. He's a tall, slender young man who appears to be several centuries away from where he really belongs -- which is in a midaeval King's throne room dressed in jester's livery, accompanied by musicians on lutes and recorders. I could watch him all day...

Travis, in the mean time, was tossing his 4-ball shower pattern much higher than necessary -- a good practice for polishing a 5-ball shower. And preparation for tricks beyond. Unlike Christian's jewel-like juggling, Travis brings power and accuracy to his practice. A lovely study in contrasts.

David and his son Eli are the next to arrive and, after quick greetings all around, they too unpack and start to work. Eli (who's been a protege of mine on diabolo for several years now), decides to stand in front of me and demonstrate his ever-expanding repertoire of tricks. I feel honored and grateful. And amazed at what he's learning and how quickly he's progressing. When he and I started working together, I thought that, with enough practice, Eli would become competent. Silly me. He's now blossoming beautifully and developing his own style. I tell him that I am truly impressed with what he's doing, and he beams.

David's working with his (newly acquired) poi swings, making huge circles around his (very tall) body. His patterns are slow and deliberate. Carefully executed. It occurs to me that this controlled, mental approach to juggling is the way he gets to be so good at so many juggling props. Much to be admired -- and, perhaps imitated!

I make a suggestion to Eli (from a germ-proof 10 feet away) about stick positioning on several of his diabolo tricks. He listens politely and nods. David asks him if he understood what I told him and he answers, "Yeah, Randy told me that stuff a year ago." (But Eli is much too polite to have mentioned that fact to me!)

Travis begins working on a 4-club pattern, which is quite smooth and looks nice. But the pattern is only in preparation for his continued assault on a 5-club cascade. It's taken him roughly a year to get this far with the 4-to-5 club transition, and his efforts make you want to stand up and cheer him on. Yes, Travis, it's closer now than ever before!

Rich shows up with his two charming daughters. The oldest one (who's 12ish) has the "forward cross-follow" poi pattern absolutely nailed and is working hard on the "reverse" version of the same trick. When she gets both versions of this trick down cold, she will be able to dance across the gym floor freely with her poi swings surrounding her in big, colorful circles. I've told her several times that, if she slowed the pattern down, it would be easier to find and fix the problems she was having. Hard advice for a 12-year-old. But I think she's been watching David and his progress with large, slow, deliberate movements and taken a lesson from that. Once again, doing and showing prove more successful that telling and explaining.

Rich and his younger daughter are working on her 3-ball cascade pattern. And it's coming along just fine.

Christian has picked up another ball and has started polishing his 4-ball Mills Mess pattern -- something that maybe 3% of all active jugglers can do. I can't do it and I don't think anyone else in the club can either. Rich stops what he's doing and walks over to me to ask -- in a low voice, "It looks like he's doing Mills Mess, but with 4 balls rather than 3. Is that right? Can you do that?" (Ah! Time for some community building!) I call out, "Christian, could you please explain that last pattern to Rich?"

Christian (who seems quite shy) is quite pleased to be consulted (and now, thanks to me, he and Rich know each other by name). He comes over to Rich and me and begins an articulate and detailed explanation of the trick. As he begins this talk, half the gym stops what they're doing so they can listen in. As he talks, Christian's voice gets a little firmer and a little louder. He demonstrates the left-hand portion of the trick, then the right-hand portion, which is a mirror image of the left. When he puts the two halves of the trick together, the balls seem to resonate in the Harmony of the Spheres. You get the feeling that they would continue to perform the trick all by themselves -- even if Christian were to walk away from them. They would just stay suspended, moving through this elegant, weaving pattern with no human assistance or intervention.

Rich's younger daughter walks into the kitchen area adjoining the gym and returns with two books from our small "how-to-do-it" juggling library. I am impressed that someone so young would find value in researching juggling tricks in books rather than just flailing away with the props themselves. But I refrain from telling her this -- you never know but that she might stop reading immediately.

A little later, Rich and Eli fall into a very intense 2-person diabolo workshop. Each knows tricks and techniques that the other doesn't, and each is delighted to share. After 15 or 20 minutes of watching this, I walk over to them for a bit of a chat.

Eli asks me about a stalling problem he's encountered with the elevator trick. I assure the problem was not with him and not with his diabolo, but with his diabolo string. I explain that different types of diabolo string have different coefficients of friction, and that the elevator trick requires a unusually high coefficient. I promise to bring in some fresh string with more friction so he can try it out. This leads to a 10-minute, 3-person discussion of diabolo string and (as you probably guessed) diabolo sticks.

I look over to the other end of the gym and see that Rich's older daughter has found the school's (ground-level) balance beam and is walking it while doing the forward cross-follow, then spinning around and walking the other direction doing the reverse cross-follow. Wait! 20 minutes ago, she couldn't do that reverse pattern at all, and now she's transitioning smoothly from forward to reverse while walking a 4-inch wide beam! It looks great -- and I tell her so.

David and Eli begin working on their ball-passing skills. Eli drops a ball and, without interrupting the pattern in the least, picks up the ball and returns it to the pattern. I had no idea he could do that. Or anything like that.

It occurs to me that few if any of these delightful people would be practicing their juggling if it weren't for the Turks Head program. And that they wouldn't know each other. And therefore be unable to share and learn and grow.

Travis has picked up his 5th club and is patiently working with the complete set. One of the toughest parts of large-number juggling (that is, five and up) is just getting the pattern started and smoothly running. Travis is getting 8 to 10 throws per try, which means that the majority of his 5 clubs are getting two tosses apiece. It's dizzying to watch.

Rich and his youngest daughter are now playing catch with a diabolo -- tossing it from dad's string to daughter's string and back again. She's having a wonderful time, and certainly no one wants to spoil it by pointing out the terrific eye/hand co-ordination she's developing or the patience she's learning, or... you know, all that other stuff.

Paige and her son and her son's friend show up. And it's good to see them. Over the last several years, her son has made considerable efforts to find "his" juggling prop, but it just wasn't happening. But he recently discovered yo-yo's and is making formidable progress therewith. Like Eli, he wants me to see what he's doing and allow me to provide lavish "attaboy's" in response. Easy to do -- and an honor.

The Saturday sessions of the Turks Head Jugglers are scheduled to run from 9:00 to 11:00 AM. And my original plan was to be home and tucked up in bed by 9:45 at the latest. I look up at the clock and find that it's now 10:45 and the practice shows no sign of slowing down.

But if the practice is not slowing down, I certainly am. With a bit of reluctance, I bid everyone a good day, thank them for coming, and ask that they stay well.

As I put away my folding chair, pick up my coffee cup (which has been empty for well over an hour), and my (barely touched) sudoku puzzle, it occurs to me that everyone there -- with the exception of me -- would be leaving the gym as a significantly better juggler than when they showed up that morning.

And I had the deeply gratifying experience of watching it all happen -- and now, the pleasure of reporting it all to you.