Recently, for reasons I am still unsure of, the husband and I had a discussion about spirit animals. I told him that if I've always figured if I had a spirit guide it would be a turtle.
I'm guessing in the world of animal spirit guides the turtle doesn't get a lot of love. He's not the high-energy, fierce and brave mammal on the prowl that most people would want to associate themselves with. But yeah, if I was at Spirit Guides R Us, I'm pretty sure I'd walk out with a big old wrinkly hard-shelled wise and ancient turtle. I have no doubt we'd get along extremely well.
The turtle and I have a lot in common. You know, besides the slow-blinking, noncommittal stare. First sign of trouble, and I am deep within my shell, waiting it out until I'm certain that all danger has passed. Eventually I will timidly peek my nose out, tasting the air to see if it's safe to venture out again.
When Dos moved out in August, the turtle in me came out in full force. I retreated deep into my shell and got lost there for a while. Any attempt at writing landed me in a foreign place where words swam around me refusing to be caught. It was a dismal, lonely place.
Some days I feel like I'm still there.
But mostly, I'm peeking my nose out, trying to gain the courage to see blue sky again.