Turtle Story
Magnanimous, they say, courageous! On and on, the reverie received, but our choices remain. I am but one generation in this old tradition. Although I will admit, when I was just a matchbox of a turtle, I too coveted the speed of my neighbor. It wasn’t until I heard the elders tell the story that my gift was given proudly. Yes, willingly. We all need the reasons for things. We need to know our actions encourage more than our self-evidence; for even the ageless find early faults in wanting the hurried life.
At this point, I couldn’t imagine the life I would have led if I had kept my gift. The torturous life of never ending pursuit. Yes, foolish. I am a turtle that has found the meaning in my sacrifice. The praise? The praise is nothing more than the guilt of the other animals. Even in their grace, they still look down at us. Slow is slow. But we feel the happiness in life, and it only comes through the pacing afforded to the long-lived turtle. The other animals know the story well, while living out its conclusions quickly.
We don’t expect anything in return, though, and least of all from those relentless pursuers called humans. Our strides are intentional, while they take steps recklessly fast. Yes, accomplishment. Long ago, we took in the breaths of patience, and our exhale gave those animals desiring speed, all they could hope to pursue. Once born as the fastest on land, we now take pleasure in extending our lives through the honest pursuit of wisdom. Yes, truth.
