Catcher in the Sky

My favorite flying trapeze catcher not looking as thrilled with me as I am with him.
Evan, not looking as thrilled with me as I am with him.

Last May, I stood aloft on the trapeze platform at Circus Warehouse in New York, holding the trapeze bar, my body tense, my breath shallow with fear, my voice squeaky as I called out, “Lista.” I had returned to flying after an eight-year hiatus, and I was going for my first catch without wearing safety lines, flying free for the first time since 2006. Weeks later my friend Kiki described bungee jumping off a bridge in Australia, and I’d asked him, “What did you trust in that moment when you leapt off the bridge?”

“The bungee cord,” Kiki said. “What do you trust when you fly?”

My response: “Evan.”

I am an unlikely flying trapeze artist. On the ground, I’m high-strung, unpredictable, the emotional antithesis of light. Flying trapeze for me is so profound precisely because it is so not me. My limitations and inconsistencies on terra firma are only amplified in the air. I can’t always trust me. But in trapeze class, the one thing I knew I could always trust was my catcher, Evan Armbrister.

Evan caught every trick I threw to him. He taught me how to swing with and return off the catcher. He improved my takeoff, the skill that bedeviled me most. Working with Evan, I grew as a flyer. And I watched Evan, week to week, take in feedback from trapeze coach Miguel Caceres, and grow as a catcher. By the time he left Circus Warehouse to travel, Evan had a stable of flyers who regularly caught double somersaults—Doubles!— and returned to the platform. Evan and his flyers looked every bit as polished, as smooth as a professional flying team.

My tricks are simple, they don’t require a catcher of Evan’s calibre. Before working with Evan, my flying was challenging for the catcher because of my inconsistent takeoff and my tendency to rush, a habit borne out of mistrust. Trapeze is all about timing, and my timing was difficult to predict. Flying with Evan, I knew I was safe physically; his calmness and deliberateness made me feel safe emotionally. That sense of safety allowed me to develop consistency and connect to the joy of flying in a new way. After a few weeks of flying without safety lines, I felt a childlike glee every time I hopped off the platform with Evan hanging upside down on the other trapeze bar.

I started flying years ago, despite a fear of heights. Back then, I developed bad habits that plagued me when I returned to flying after my hiatus. Going for the catch, I would release my trick and grab at the catcher, killing my height and any chance I had for a smooth catch and return. It was a metaphor for how I often behaved in life on the ground—grabbing for things instead of allowing them to come to me. Class after class, Evan admonished, “Let me catch you.” And when I finally was able to do that, I knew I’d overcome a hurdle not only in my flying, but in my life.

Evan’s background as a movement specialist and coach includes martial arts, boxing, and distance running. He’s a writer, articulate, able to adjust his language to find the right message for a particular student. He emphasizes the mind/body connection. In teaching me the takeoff, Evan continued to adjust his instruction until I got it. Besides giving me all the usual mechanical cues—lift the bar, jump up, hips forward, shoulders back—he talked to me about creating an energetic line from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I reached nirvana the first time I heard a trapeze instructor watching me say, “Great takeoff.”

When Evan first told me he was leaving to travel indefinitely, first in Thailand, and then who knows where, I responded with my go-to coping mechanism: denial. Even though I know people never stay where I put them, I couldn’t imagine trapeze without Evan. Therefore, I couldn’t imagine him leaving. Reality has sunk in. He’s gone. And while I miss him, I’m happy he gets to live his dream, his version of flying free.

My wish for Evan is that all the joy he’s given me through trapeze comes back to him ten-fold. My sadness that, for now, I can no longer fly with him is tempered with gratitude and love. Evan, you’ll always be my favorite catcher. ♥

Follow Evan’s stunning travel photography here.

2 Comments

  1. 11.13.14
    erin said:

    Awesome. Thanks, Lynn.

  2. 11.13.14

    Lovely tribute, and you look spectacularly gorgeous flying!

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