If the Family Turtle Could Narrate My Mornings

It’s 6:40 and she is finally getting up, she hit snooze like three times. That’s what she gets for staying up half the night. Why does she even bother to set her alarm for 6:15? Now she is going watch the news while simultaneously finding the days attire. Her closet and dresser runneth over with clothing. The ticking time forces her to think on her feet, after much practice, this skill is on the verge of mastery.

Alright, clothes on, teeth brushed, faced washed, it is now 7:05. She only has fifteen minutes to make a quick breakfast and lunch. By this, I mean running around the kitchen throwing random things into her lunch bag, wanting it to magically become a meal. She is not a healthy one. In her lunch bag, you will find the following: candy, fruit snacks, cinnamon pop tarts, a chocolate pudding, and red grapes all stocked in bulk to share with her co- workers. Since I have not listed any real food, she will most likely go to lunch and return home with leftovers.

She now has about five more minutes to throw a handful of mints and headphones in her purse. I hope she doesn’t forget her wallet this time. It’s time put on her shoes if she can locate them. Seconds waste as the clock hits 7:19 she dashes out the door. A minute later she thrusts back in the house to get the coffee she abandoned on the table and then goes back to her room for her phone. Okay but seriously, this time, she is outta here folks. The mornings are always entertainingly predictable.

Can You Find the Panda?

The Contract

I didn’t agree to such a contract, yet I still choose to abide by it. With my first breath, I was picked to live, but not to last. No one knows when these living documents will eventually waste away to extinction. I cling to the night because I am so unsure of the morning, but even the days die. Receiving such an invitation is a relief for the sunny hours and then night stalks again asking the same question. We as humans conquered much adversity, yet we can’t seem to shake the burden of death, the living predator. Even with so much to lose, life can easily become a mundane gift that collects dust.

I hate that it is the one thing I will never be able to write about, a complex tease that I am both familiar with but a stranger to. I imagine it is like flying in a plane through a cloud. Feeling stagnant yet speeding through the air, surrounded by a peaceful blinding white light. Death is unfairly just. We strive to out buy it, but we can’t live without it.

The Beauty of Silence

I could not see her, but I knew she entered the room. It was silent. I never felt such solitude in the midst of others. I tamed my mind to concentrate on a simple assignment, breathing. My mind debated back insisting that I choose something less biological. My thoughts were terrified at what could come to mind; the threat of becoming to acquaint with the repressed that lurked in the abyss of me. My senses desperate for a distraction. But it was too late; she stole me with her still grace.

Her presence was rare and often underappreciated. My mind panicked in not knowing what to do in her company. Pure at heart, calm in spirit, she was. I entered a world of a delightful nothingness. It was a secure, peaceful, and inviting refuge. I was outside of myself, my location: Unknown. At the peak of utter euphoria my phone spoke in the distant, interrupting, and she swiftly departed.

I was forced to return to society’s mundane preoccupation. A world where stress is normal, tasks are ever-present, and entertainment is inescapable. I almost met myself beyond the roles I play, but my master said, “not today.”

The Release Magazine

Life Lessons From Kids

I may be young in years, but I am wise at heart. You adults underestimate me, failing to remember I soak everything in like a sponge. Here’s what I’ve discovered in my short years:

Honesty

You command me to always tell the truth, but when I do I get in trouble. One time I repeated what you said at home about your friend’s hair to her face. You gave me a scary look, but I thought you told her already. I now know that little white lies to spare the feelings of others is acceptable. I don’t understand why the truth scares adults so much, I thought you guys were supposed to be the brave ones.

Dreaming

Grown-ups have boring office jobs even though you could have been something awesome like an astronaut! How do you expect me to enjoy “take your child to work day?” When I get bigger I’m going be a rock star, spy, ninja, Olympian, and president of the planet, with millions of dollars. I would then buy a ton of candy for my friends and me. Then I’d make going to school every day illegal. I also would buy all the homeless people in the world a house, so that all could have an equal chance to succeed.

Looking at the world with awe

You grown-ups have lived in this world for hundreds of years, but you don’t take a second glance at the flowers that bloom in the spring.  You overlook the synchronized rhythm of the birds going on vacation to flee the cold. I have no idea how your jaw doesn’t drop when the sun is falling asleep and the sky looks like melted Skittles.

Forgiving

You adults sure do know how to hold a grudge. The longest I can stay mad at my friends is 3 minutes, and even that feels like forever. Most of the time I can’t even remember why I was mad in the first place. I learned that the quicker we apologize the sooner we can resume our play. It’s no fun playing tag by yourself, and it also makes you look weird on the playground.

So here’s what I’ve learned. Honesty is for the greater good, not something to be afraid of, but embraced. Dreaming is only half the battle, but nothing is impossible. The world is spontaneous and life’s simplest moments are beautiful. Forgiveness is essential to move forward and grudges are a waste of time, energy, and unsaid words.