Essay

The art of starting small

By Samantha Loong

Wellington is a city full of interesting characters. Every now and then, a particular, sometimes peculiar personality emerges. There was the guy who always walked around with a bucket, the guy who sat around wearing nothing but a blanket and a loincloth, the guy who would busk — terribly — with a radio and his air guitar, and my personal favorite, Juggler Guy.

The first time I saw Juggler Guy was in the late '90s. I figured he was just another oddball hanging out in the city. He looked to be in his mid-to-late 40s, but I couldn't tell if he was homeless, had a day job, or was just bored. A slight man, he always wore a tight-fitting woolen hat and long-sleeved knitwear. In the early days, he could always be found standing somewhere in the city throwing a single tennis ball up and down, chuckling to himself. At the time, I thought it was silly to give money to a guy doing something I could do, so I ignored him. What I did notice though, was that along with his trademark woolen hat and knitwear, he would always wear a delightful smile on his face. He was having the best time just throwing this one ball up and down.

A year or so passed, and one day I noticed that he had progressed to throwing two tennis balls up in the air. He wasn't doing anything spectacular with them, but he was still having a good time. After a while, I started seeing Juggler Guy trying his luck with three tennis balls. He would drop them often and have to chase them through bemused crowds of passers-by, but he never gave up. Before I left for Japan in 2004, he had mastered juggling those three balls — and always with that smile on his face, chuckling.

About a month ago, I was walking around in the city and suddenly there he was! Juggler Guy! I had completely forgotten about him. He was wearing his usual tight-fitting woolen hat, long-sleeved top and his joyful smile. His tennis balls were a flurry of bright fluorescent yellow spots in the air. I slowed down to count them. There were FIVE balls. How high they soared. Juggler Guy never faltered in his moves. He stood still, looking up at the balls cascading around the air above him. And of course, he had that look of absolute glee on his face. I stood on this busy street as office workers filed past, and smiled at Juggler Guy. He didn't see me though — he was too absorbed in his craft.

To me, Juggler Guy is a wonderful example of achieving success: Start small, enjoy the process, learn from every up and down, and smile. Too often we're all so overwhelmed with having to achieve enormous goals that we forget to celebrate even the tiniest of achievements. And as Juggler Guy has shown me, every tiny step you take towards that goal, whether it's forward or backward, can result in something amazing.

Shukan ST: MARCH 9, 2012

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