Why My Spirit Animal is a Tortoise
And why I might have already been one
And why I might have already been one
As a kid, I wanted to be a gorilla because I thought I looked like one. I was born with a physical disability called (for short) upper PFFD. It causes really short thigh bones, but everything else is normal. If you’ve ever seen Hank’s dad on King of the Hill, you’re close to understanding what I look like. Short legs and long arms meant gorilla to me.
But as I grew up and became more comfortable with who I was and who I was becoming, I saw myself differently. There’s a saying in the West that goes, you can either be the brain or the brawn, and since, in my mind, 4’3” men couldn’t be the brawn, I knew I had to be the brain. I learned how to study hard and did so. I fell in love with philosophy, Plato, and Socrates. I studied ancient Greek and Roman gods, and as a middle-aged man, I learned about Taoism and ancient Chinese philosophy. Mix all these ideas and concepts together with a body that doesn’t move all that well, and you end up with me.
At 18 years old, I saw a tortoise at the pet store. I told my parents I wanted it as a high school graduation present, and, considering it wasn’t terribly expensive, I received it soon afterward. His name was Maximus (the movie Gladiator had just been released), and he was a Russian tortoise. He would have outlived me, but unfortunately, my roommate’s cat had other plans three years later.
I’ve never forgotten about poor Maximus. Perhaps I was tempting fate by giving him that name since Maxiums in the movie doesn’t fare much better. But I noticed a trend after his untimely death. My mood towards the world began to shift. Not quickly, of course. And not fast enough to see at the time, but slowly, over many years, something changed.
Gone was the brash, quick-tempered version of Patrick. In its place was a more calculating, planning, and caring Patrick. This version of Patrick became a college graduate and father in his 25th year of life. He studied hard even after professors stopped demanding the practice. This self-determination could be the cause of my nightmares, where I forget to turn in a project on time or skip a final exam.
Suddenly, I could remain calm with a low voice during arguments. I could think past obstacles and problem-solve quickly while being smooth and slow in my actions. Does that sound familiar?
Master Ugway is a character from the Kung Fu Panda series of films starring Jack Black. A legendary master of Kung Fu, Ugway has lived a long life and eventually gives himself to the universe during the first film, but not without passing on several anecdotes of wisdom. Inspired mainly by Taoist and Buddhist philosophies, Ugway represents everything I want to be. Knowledgable, intellectual, steady, but secretly robust.
Some want to lead by force, but Ugway leads by example. Sure, he could kick your ass if given the chance, but he would rather fight through his ability to speak than through his cane. So, too, do I.
Many years ago, I had a vision of myself. I sit outside under a tree, looking at the world around me. The grass is green, and the sky is a rich blue with fluffy white clouds slowly passing me. I’m not sad because I am alone; I’m happy because I am surrounded by life.
I hear water running near me, like a creek or a small stream, and a bird calls in the tree to his partners, scavenging for food. I don’t see my body, but I feel the coolness of the grass and hear the crunch of the leaves as I move.
Where did this vision come from? I can see it so clearly in my mind that it must be real. Is it me as a baby, or, more interestingly, is it a memory from another life? I believe in past and future lives, although we don’t always maintain our consciousness between them, but maybe I did.
Perhaps it’s the future. If true, I’m destined to outlive my wife and see my kids grow into adults with their own families. If this is true, I’ve learned to say goodbye to them and remove myself from society with my goals accomplished or at least finished.
Or maybe it’s just a thought. A nice thought. A happy thought. A thought that can carry me through this fantastic journey and silently pass through this life.
I often write about death because I’m getting closer to it daily. It’s no secret, and I’m not unique in this regard. The reaper comes for everyone, after all.
Master Ugway, even though a fictional character, taught me that every day is a gift, and I’ve learned the same lesson. I pass it on to anyone who will listen. I teach my children to cherish the brief moments we have together. The brothers I grew up with are spread throughout Texas, and we see each other less than five times a year. So, I teach them to be slow, thoughtful, and courteous to all things.
Don’t be the cheetah who runs as fast as his legs can carry him; instead, be the tortoise.
Did you ever see the movie Fight Club with Brad Pitt and Edward Norton? In the film, Edward Norton discovered his spirit animal was a penguin, which told him to “slide.” When I close my eyes and look into the cave, I see a tortoise. He is happy, calm, and collected. He doesn’t move much and only sits there, enjoying his surroundings.
When I say hello, he slowly turns towards me and smiles. I walk over and sit down next to him. Yet, he isn’t there anymore when I ask him how life is going. I’m alone, smiling, and looking out of the cave at a dark green, grassy field with a sunny blue sky above me. I move slowly, but understand all my movements are equally powerful.
“Indeed,” I speak aloud and smile. Then, I quietly move forward.