Four Turtles

Today I faced a long break between appointments.  

The morning had me scheduled with my nonprofit job, the afternoon with writing, and the evening with my new t-ball gig.

Of my four paying jobs- nonprofit, tutor, teacher, writer- I was only obligated to two today.  I questioned if I should get a manicure, maybe an eyebrow wax.  I made friends with a wannabe celesbian on twitter and thus learned the word celesbian.  I made a kickass salad of arugula and goat cheese.  I thought about vacuuming, decided against it and considered yard work.  But that wasn't happening.  I was lost in this break.

 

I meant to write, and more than just a tweet.  You know, a freelance assignment that actually pays me.

But I couldn't commit.  I couldn't see how to pinpoint the energy.

It was a beautiful afternoon and quite depressing of me to Facebook to no one.  I ventured outside, eager to run as I usually do, but my brain was heavy.  I needed to be present, and I knew attention to detail would fail me while sprinting.  

I would walk.

Trekking down my small town street, I turned toward the local park.  I passed just-hanging-on houses, the paint mostly chipped away on their porch steps, the lawn decor faded from having never been removed during snowstorms.

Those houses had been through a lot.

Occasionally an old man would drive by, winning staring contests with me before going about his way.

I looked at the overflowing playground trash cans, the space bordered with cigarette butts and crushed soda bottles.  I felt the familiar mix of anger and sadness that arises when I question what I'm doing here, if it will ever get better.

I took a different route than usual.  

I'm not a fan of woods, yet I stood at the mouth of a stream.

In the water sat a branch, and just barely, I realized something more was there.  A turtle.  Wait-- FOUR turtles, MY turtles.  

They were waiting for me but what exactly for? 

Were they symbolic somehow of Jeff, Colin, Claire and me?  Was one a writer, a tutor, a teacher?  Do you blog in your spare time, turtle-girl?  Why are you here?

Despite their reputations, three of them must have startled in my presence, scurrying off with such speed, I immediately lost sight of them.

But one- no doubt the mama- remained perched on her log.  She wasn't scared; she didn't flinch.  I then wondered if she could hear.

We stared at each other, She-turtle and me, meeting each other exactly when we are supposed to, on an unplanned walk on a sunny day.

She was telling me something: quietly, gently, and with dignity.

Stay the course, girl.  Slow and steady, stay the course.

Then when it damn well pleased her, Mama Turtle joined the group in the water.

She decided she was ready, and she dove right in.