"Face it," declares Ella L.J. Edmondson Bell, as MBA heads nod vigorously. "Life is a circus." You're thinking, Man, that's a lame metaphor. Lions? Tigers? Bears? Oh my. But in her classes -- and with clients like Salomon Smith Barney and PepsiCo -- Bell trades on the cliché to make a point: We don't bring enough of ourselves to the workplace, which is why work doesn't feel like the greatest show on Earth. But we can do something about it.

Bell, 52, is an associate professor at Dartmouth's Tuck School of Business and one of the first two black women on the faculty. She's a popular instructor -- an intellectual, a shrink, and a comedienne all in one. ''Circus Acts'' -- a group exercise borrowed from her mentor, Donald Wolfe, and other colleagues at Case Western Reserve University, where she got her PhD -- provokes professionals to think about their work, their lives, and the nature of the workplace itself. Here, with Bell's commentary, is how it works.

1. Draw three rings -- one each for your work, your personal life, and your community involvement. The rings can vary in size and can either interconnect or not.

We often don't talk about our personal lives at work, because we're told that we come to work to do work. But people are more effective when they feel a sense of completeness. People have to know that they can integrate other aspects of their lives into their jobs.

Why? Because it makes companies more effective. I'm working at PepsiCo with minority managers. The question I ask there is, "How do you get all of yourself through the front door?" When these guys drive to work, they've got their music going -- but as soon as they pull into the parking lot, they shut the music down. The suit goes on. Their body language changes. If I'm allowed to bring in everything I am, all my off-the-wall ideas, then my employer builds a stronger house.

2. In each ring, draw the performer you think represents your role in that sphere.

The symbolism is important here. How do you think of yourself? People in corporations do this and say, I'm overstressed and overworked. There's no downtime. I'm on the tightrope. I'm fighting off lions. Or I'm the ringmaster, trying to keep everything together.

What worries me is when I see someone with their circles, and they're a tightrope walker, a trapeze artist, and a stilt walker. I'm like, Wouldn't you want to be a clown? Or if the rings are all clowns, I ask, Where are you taken seriously? When can you take off the mask?

Any role on its own might be healthy for you. Sometimes roles reflect degrees of control. But whatever the reason, you've taken this role on -- so what have you gained from it? Do you take on this role, or has it been pushed on you?

3. Below each performer, list your biggest stresses and your primary coping mechanisms for each role.

How do people cope? Perhaps they eat more. Or they withdraw. Or they shop. How effective are these mechanisms?

In this exercise, people figure out that the most effective coping mechanism is often staring them in the face: They find out they're not alone. I hear them say, "I didn't know you were struggling with this. I thought I was the only one."