When Simba, the Lion, didn’t know that a circus was a possible home for him, his life was different.
He had so much freedom, many opportunities, and so much choice.
He was wired to lead. He was wired to roar. He was wired to kill.
Kill like a Lion.
Then came the circus. And the ringmaster.
Initially, Simba didn’t like the circus, but eventually, he compromised and surrendered himself.
If he did exactly as the ringmaster asked him to do, he would get a piece of meat.
If he refuses to do as the ringmaster asks him to do, he will have to sleep hungry.
If he’d do what the ringmaster wanted even without asking, he would get one more piece of meat.
Following the ringmaster’s orders was a better deal.
So he re-wired himself to listen to and follow the ringmaster’s orders.
He was now an integral part of the circus.
His life became easy. Follow the orders and get the food. On some days, he would be allowed to have sex with the lioness who used to stay in a nearby cage.
Simba thought to himself, “Life at a circus is not bad at all. I get the food without having to kill anyone, and I get to spend some good time with the lioness I developed a crush on.”
As the years passed, Simba thought that the ringmaster was his “true” master and that if he pleased him, his life would continue to be easy.
Everything worked well for several years, but one day, for some reason, the circus owner decided to close the circus down.
The circus owner was happy with Simba. He thought at this point, rather than selling him to another circus, he would send him back to his real home, into the wild.
And he did it.
That day was difficult for Simba. There was no ringmaster. No shows. No noise of people applauding Simba’s performance. There was no food at his fingertips.
Simba was hungry, and he had to arrange for his food on his own.
But he didn’t feel at home. The wild was perhaps too wild for him. He didn’t want to stay there anymore. He needed to be with a circus. Any circus.
He sat under a tree thinking, “It would be great if I find another circus. I want someone to come and take me to the circus again …”
He was the Lion. The King. Yet he needed a place to hold him, a spot where he didn’t have to assume the responsibility.
If he worked with a circus, he’d get food, sex, and a sense of safety.
Simba was no longer a Lion. His habits were changed. Sure, he looked like a Lion but didn’t remain one. He could roar, but he could not choose.
Why wasn’t he a Lion anymore? Did he forget hunting?
But after living a passive life with the circus and following orders from the ringmaster, he forgot to choose himself.
“That’s when it clicked. When everything changed. When I realized that nobody else was going to do it for me. If I was going to thrive, to survive, I had to choose myself. In every way.”
~James Altucher, Choose Yourself, pg #4
[bctt tweet=”If you don’t choose yourself, you don’t remain, Lion, even though you were born as a Lion.”]
If you are a Lion, then you hunt. You don’t ridicule yourself by following the orders of the ringmasters.
If you are a programmer, then you program. Don’t fool yourself by copying/pasting code from stakeoverflow.com and calling yourself a Programmer.
[bctt tweet=”You are not what’s available to you. You’re not what happens to you. You are what you choose to be. “]
Or go in search of a circus.