Kickin' & Screamin'

I’ve always loved turtles.  So much so, that I have a tattoo of one living forever and ever on my ankle (sorry, Mom).   There’s just so much to love and admire about the slow moving creatures.  I’ve had two turtle encounters over the past few days.  The first, doing the “I’m a good human” deed that so many of us do when we see one trying to cross a road.  We pull over and move the little fella to the side of the road he was attempting to cross to, right?  If you’re not a turtle mover, I’m not sure we could be good friends.  I mean, really.  You just have to do it.  That heart racing moment when you think to yourself, “Yeah….I’ve got to help that guy” and you pull your car over on the shoulder, get out, race out into the road,  risking your own life, move him to his destination, then get back in the car and curse yourself for not having hand sanitizer with you.  We’ve all done it, right?  No?  If you haven’t, please do.  Seriously, everyone needs to be a turtle mover.  In this scary world we live in, it’s the very least we can do.

Then just this morning, I had another run in with a nice box turtle.  I was walking on my favorite trails when I stumbled upon the little guy, who was attempting to climb up a small hill.  Of course, I assumed that he needed my assistance, so I reached to pick him up–planning to place him on top of the hill he was staring at so intently.  As I reached to pick him up, he did as turtles always do, retreating his head and legs into his shell, and he added a little unexpected hissing noise that startled me a bit.  I honestly felt like he was telling me to back off and mind my own business.  So, for the first time in my life, I left the turtle alone.  I reluctantly continued on my hike, wondering if I’d done the right thing.  After twenty minutes or so, I looped back around to return the same way I’d come, to check on the turtle.  I was convinced he needed me.  I had no doubt that he’d be sitting in the same place, staring at the hill before him, unable to tackle such a steep incline without my assistance.  Considering I’d seen no other humans in the time that had passed, I knew I was his only hope.

I looped back around and found the spot where he had been.  I immediately noticed he wasn’t there, so I began to look around for him on the flat trail…assuming he’d come to the conclusion that he couldn’t make the steep incline.  On the other side of the trail, opposite of the steep hill, the ground was flat.  I was sure my turtle friend had retreated back to the flat side…the easy way out.  But then I heard a small rustle in the grass….and looked up just in time to see that stubborn fella right as he peaked the top of the hill, moving faster than I’d ever seen a turtle move.  He made it.  All by himself.  He didn’t need me.  I just assumed he did.

I spent the rest of my hike wondering how many times I’ve done the same with my child.  How many times have I rushed in to finish a task for her, assuming she couldn’t do it without me…when indeed, she would have succeeded greatly if I’d just left her alone for a while.  How many times have I done this to a friend?  Jumped in and gave my advice or opinion, encouraging them to take a certain path in their life (maybe advising them to stick to the flat side of the path–the easy way out?), when they probably just needed time to figure it out on their own.

Yes indeed, if we find a creature–turtle, child, loved one, friend, who is in definite need–the turtle in the road–of course we sweep in.  If they are in the middle of a road–whether a literal road (as with the turtle), or a road of sorrow, pain, danger….it’s our obligation to rush in and do whatever we can to help.  But what if they just need time?  What if they’re simply facing an obstacle that needs thought, prayer, and a good plan?  It’s hard not to rush in….and encourage them to move to where we think they should be.  But should we?  It’s a tough call, most definitely.

I stood there and watched my buddy this morning, after he topped the hill.  He actually turned around and faced me.  I’m convinced he did this on purpose, as if to say “See?  I can do it by myself.”  We stared at one another for a good minute.  I smiled at him, and yeah…. (y’all already know I’m crazy)…I felt like he smiled back at me,  just a little.  I named him Billy, short for William, for not long ago I read somewhere that William meant “determined” in it’s origin.   And let’s face it….”Will” is no name for a turtle.  It has to be Billy.  Simple as that.  Then, as I walked away, I asked myself why I assumed the turtle was a boy.  I walked back and looked once more at the turtle who was still perched on the top of the hill, which to a creature it’s size, must have felt like a huge mountain.  I thought about the mountains I’ve climbed, both physically and metaphorically, and I quickly changed my mind.  Billy became Billie….and was deemed a girl as I walked away and continued my hike.  Girl power, and Godspeed to little Billie.

We as humans are quite the same as turtles in that we are at the mercy of others.  We can encounter kindness–those who will help us off the road in a time of crisis and encourage us as we conquer the mountains.  OR, we can encounter the cruel souls who will place us on a fencepost, keeping us from doing anything…keeping us from going anywhere.   We sometimes don’t realize who these people are–but most of us have had them in our lives at some point.  People who don’t want us to thrive or succeed.  People who want us to be stuck, unable to move forward.  They put us on a fencepost.  And like the poor turtles, we become stuck with very little hope…until someone who cares comes along.  Someone to place us back on solid ground, where we can begin to use our legs again.

Turtles have been around for millions of years.  With over three hundred species, they can be found all over the world.  And just like humans, some are grouchy–like the snapping turtles–and will not tolerate you at all.  Others depend on your kindness to simply survive the day.  And some just need time to do it all by themselves, to prove that it can, indeed, be done.

Let’s be kind to the turtles, and to the humans.  Let’s give them the space they need, but never leave them on a fencepost.   And if you are currently on a fencepost, please don’t give up.  Use the time to rest and pray, but do not–under any circumstances–give up. Someone will come along who wants to set you free, who wants you to feel that amazing feeling of using your legs again and travelling to your greatest destination.  They might even travel along with you.

And remember….speed doesn’t matter.  Forward is forward.  You’ll get there.

Take a walk with a turtle. And behold the world in pause.      ~Bruce Feiler