Since we’ve gotten over the shock of COVID restrictions and have given attention to re-inventing ourselves, we’ve heard the word ”pivot” a lot.

We’ve had to adapt. We had to learn how to do things differently. How we shopped, how we voted, how we conducted meetings, how we attended school, and how we amused ourselves.

We thought some of the changes were to be temporary, like summer road construction, but it’s dawning on us that we still have to change the way we think. We’ve even had to ponder how life might be different permanently.

On a recent Saturday, on a beautiful early fall day, I attended a favorite annual event, which provided me with an image to contemplate.

Midnight Circus in the Parks, whose mission is to “Create community…one circus at a time” has been holding performances in Chicago parks every fall for over a decade. Founded with the intent of raising money for local parks, they feature a mix of homegrown talent along with performers from Cirque de Soleil.

As restaurants learned how to survive during COVID by “pivoting,” by beefing up their takeout menu and developing new efficiencies managing curbside pickups, the Midnight Circus had to pivot, too.

Instead of performing in tents on park grounds, lined inside with half-circles of bleachers and supported by teams of volunteer ticket takers and popcorn makers, they decided to do shorter shows earlier in the day. Outside.

Trained dogs and some acts requiring special apparatus were not featured the past two years, but clowns and acrobats, dancers and aerial performers, using simple hoists and metal rings, provided a fun time for all.

I was mesmerized by one image from the afternoon in particular.

A thin and muscular young woman, suspended on a swing, assumed various positions. When she held on to the swing by her ankles, her skirt flopped over her head, and, exaggerating surprise at the immodest pose, she delighted the children in the audience. They could easily relate to the idea of not being in control and possibly looking silly.

When she stood up on the swing’s seat, with trees behind her, over fifteen feet in the air, it was easy to lose perspective. Her body looked like it was floating, but her face conveyed that she was working very hard to keep her balance.

The question this image seemed to provoke was “What do I have to do to maintain my sense of balance?”

So many of us have been asking ourselves this question since COVID transformed the way we viewed our lives.

Sometimes, it felt like worrying became a full-time job. We started to ask ourselves other questions, too. How can we return to what felt normal? What do we need to do to keep our lifestyle? How can we fulfill all the obligations we’ve taken on?

The impulse to survive, even to thrive, in the real world matters, but watching this act made me wonder if we might be asking ourselves the wrong questions.

While the acrobat stood on the swing suspended in the air, two spotters were on the ground watching her closely, ready to catch her if she should fall.

Maybe instead of asking ourselves how we might pivot, we might ask ourselves how we might accept. Instead of asking ourselves how we can be more self-sufficient, we might ask ourselves how we can be more inter-dependent.

Rather than asking ourselves how we can keep our balance, we might ask ourselves how we could trust more.

Keeping a focus on trust — being a trustworthy neighbor and dependable steward of the earth, trusting others will catch us when we lose our balance — is no small thing.