My snapping turtle and me

My moods lately have resembled mountain rain in early spring: clouds gather, then a little light breaks through. They still change, but underneath I feel steadier than I used to. As I grow older, outside events do not startle me quite as easily. Work without a clear path, awkward moments with people, and doubts that arrive at night remain part of life.

We are clumsy tailors mending a worn coat. One hole closes and a seam opens elsewhere. Perhaps that is what a life is: a patchwork of disappointments, effort, delight, and repair. We learn to yield where we must and become tougher through the work.

When I am exhausted at night, the best thing may be to sleep instead of wrestling with every unfinished task or unresolved feeling. Rest is how I regain the strength to face what comes next. The thought reminds me of the snapping turtle I keep at home.

I recently bought ten young softshell turtles as food for it. My snapping turtle usually sits in its tank like an ancient rock, and I expected the encounter to be simple: it was much larger and stronger. But as it lunged, one small softshell stretched out its neck and bit the snapping turtle near the eye. The larger turtle let go and retreated. For a moment the hunter looked stunned.

It did not stop there. After waiting and watching, the snapping turtle tried again from a better angle. This time it avoided the smaller turtle’s head, caught it, and swallowed it. Then it drifted through the water as calmly as before.

I watched that sequence and thought of difficult work, troublesome clients, and sudden changes. I may approach with confidence and be struck exactly where I am vulnerable. The pain makes me want to withdraw. But withdrawing for a while can be part of recovering, not the end. I can sleep, gather myself, look again, and try another approach.

Life does not soften just because I am hurt. I do not have to pretend the hurt is pleasant, either. I want to keep the calm to rest after a setback and the courage to return when I wake. Tonight’s sleep can be the pause before tomorrow’s work.