Today, I went to the biggest permanent circus show in the world.
This is China —where language can still trip me up daily— but inside a circus, language disappears completely. No translations. No subtitles. Just gasps, laughter, applause, and that shared intake of breath when something impossible hangs in the air a second longer than it should.
The energy was electrifying.
Circus has its own universal language. Awe sounds the same everywhere. Laughter doesn’t need explaining. Joy travels faster than words ever could.
I’ve always loved circus shows. On this journey alone, this makes four:
One in Toronto.
Two in Spain.
And now here in China.
“People come to the circus to be reminded of what they’ve forgotten. “
—Big Fish (2003)
And every time, I realize I’m not just watching the performers —I’m watching the audience. I love seeing people light up. I love feeling a room shift collectively from ordinary to wonder. I indulge in that shared joy, the kind that reminds you how easy happiness can be when we let ourselves be impressed again.
The Chimelong International Circus is a spectacle in the truest sense of the word. Massive. Precise. Playful. Fearless. I loved every last minute of it.
More than anything, it brings out the kid in me —the part that claps too long, laughs too loudly, and doesn’t try to be cool about it. For a few hours, I wasn’t a traveler navigating apps and maps and translations. I was just another human, sitting among thousands of strangers, speaking the same language without saying a single word.
Awe.
Laughter.
Joy.
Under the big top, we all understood each other perfectly.