Turtle - by Monica

Photo credit: Photobucket

I saw this blog post on author Jane Porter's website, and I found it really inspiring. Because, sure, it's easy to tell others about how they should accept themselves. But...it's a lot harder to accept yourselves. We are always so busy, alway trying to fill our time to feel successful and good about ourselves. But, sometimes, we could learn a thing or two from the turtle, instead of always racing through life as the "hare." Don't always think you need to move fast in order to feel good about yourself. Sometimes, the only way to feel good about yourself is to stop and smell the roses. Don't give yourself a set schedule to when you should achieve something because then you'll be disappointed. Move at your own pace, even if it's the pace of the turtle.

I talk about self-acceptance.

I talk about self-esteem.

I talk and talk and well, sometimes it’s just talk.

The truth is I’ve really wrestled with…me…lately. Wrestling with who I am and what I expect and what I deep down believe.

I’m so good at empowering others. I tell everyone else to be nice to themselves. To love yourself. To be kind to yourself. And then in the privacy of my own home–and mind–I beat the hell out of me. And it hurts. As well as being exhausting.

I’ve been so mad at myself for not writing more. For not going hungry more. And running more. For not slipping back into a tiny, tan, successful, glorious version of me…a version I’m not sure even, or ever, existed. But that’s what my tricky mind remembers and that’s what I must do to what…sell a book? Be loved? Be happy?

And so I’ve had endless conversations with myself, probably more than I should, probably more than what is safe and sane. But during one of these fierce conversations I had this ephihany—I’m going to get there.

It’s just going to be slow.

Maybe really slowly. Perhaps even painfully slowly. But maybe its okay to be a turtle. Maybe the slow crawl will get me the same results the sprint would. Maybe. And even if not, its where I am now.

Creeping along. Trying hard. Doing my best. And seeing a lot of the same scenery. I suppose one really gets to appreciate the scenery when you’re not racing, or breathless, or fighting a side ache.

I once enjoyed being the sprinter. I felt smug, the clever hare bounding along, dashing over the heads of turtles, grinning as I shot from here to there. Well, that Jane’s gone. Don’t know if she’ll ever come back.

So I’ve spent the last nine days learning to love the turtle in me and say things like “good turtle”, “lovely turtle”, “just keep going, turtle.” You see, there’s not a lot of glamour in being a turtle but if I get to the end…and don’t give up…I’ll have the journey and the success.

And maybe peace of mind.