Turtle on a Rock (or ) Who Needs Multi-Tasking?!

I am questioning when it became such a great skill to be able to multi-task.  Maybe it is my age showing.  Or maybe it’s just plain scary to watch a bike rider texting on their phone with one hand while taking a puff of a cigarette with the other.  And for myself, I know that when I eat lunch while entering my receipts in Quickbooks, I only end up with a belly ache and grease all over my spreadsheets.

But as I was writing last night, I suddenly got this vivid image of a turtle on a rock.  Lying on a dark boulder, eyes closed, his dark green shell basking in the sun.  His only thoughts being how good the warmth felt on his back, the rich smell of mud and water, and maybe, how those little minnows swimming by might make a good snack later on.

And it was such a gloriously decadent sensation, one that was totally immersed in the moment, that I asked myself, “When do I let myself be the turtle on the rock?” When do I let myself focus on just one thing – letting everything else drift past like so much dust.

I realized that I am the turtle on the rock when I take myself to the ocean.  I feel a deep breath of relief and greeting, as I settle into the sand, the warmth on my back from the rising sun, and the call of the waves.  It is that call of the waves that lulls me, slows the brain chatter, let’s me sink into the moment and relish the experience.  It is the never ending, ceaseless sound of the waves coming onto shore – greeting the earth in an endless dance.

And each wave has its own distinctive sound.  Sometimes it is the loud booming crash of the big ones roaring onto shore, all whoosh and surround sound.  Sometimes it is the quieter pitter patter of the smaller ones.  As they stumble, tumble in – coming at me from the right and from the left.  As they pull back to sea, they take with them thousands of tiny pebbles that rattle all the way home.  In some ways it is like a symphony – a giant maestro that calls them forth, pounding, crashing, rattling, whooshing – endlessly into infinity.

For a few moments of that infinity, I am part of the great symphony – my breathing, my singing, my beating heart.  I feel the breeze on my cheeks, the pounding in my chest, the warmth on my back.  For a few moments of infinity – I am the turtle on the rock.

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