Tortoise & Hare...

Tortoise or Hare? Slow or Fast?

I'm a bit light on my feet, always moving, a bit jumpy. So you might think Hare. Words come easily to me. My head is always a spinning ball of confusion. There is a bit of lightning in me. I think of myself as "smart" and tricky. But really, I'm also, surprisingly a bit slow on the uptake; homely, crusty, creaky around the edges. I feel a bit settled in my bones; maybe an old soul. Always trying to take the long-view. Not in a race with the Hare, just taking one step at a time. The road is still rolling out.  A good motto: always be moving. Also: stay close to the ground. Last night I was confronted with Class. As in, out of my class; out-classed. You know there are some human beings that just happen to live lives that are way more comfortable, humans with better genes, bigger bank accounts, more intelligent, better educated, more talented, better fed, more beautiful & symmetrical. They naturally have advantages over many others. I felt like a Tortoise, lost in the Land of Hare. It was surprisingly a bit invalidating & intimidating. Some of us are movers and shakers, some of us get moved and shaken. I come from a long line of  hustlers, working stiffs, and schleppers, human beings always on the margins, outsiders, low-riders, on the make, always struggling in the water, often swimming against the stream. Oh well. That's a certain reality. I find it best not to think of life as a competition (although, we are often competing for resources, love, attention, opportunities, etc). I mean, I think it's probably best to think of life as an always-renewing garden. We are all born with what we are born with, and we must deal with the deal that's been dealt to us. Some of us are tall, bright, beautiful, colorful flowers, some of us are shorter, darker; we are feisty, dusty, little shrubs. Or you know, yes, there is the Tortoise and the Hare contending out on the boulevard. I find myself resonating as Tortoise/shrub. Maybe a Tortoise/shrub with some Hare-like and flowery qualities. Yikes. I mean, fuck it, Damn the Torpedoes...