A Lesson from Larry

I've said it before and I'll say it again.  I learn a lot from Larry and Mrs. Larry.  They're young tortoises but they're also wise teachers.  (Even if they don't know it.)

Larry is a tortoise.  I believe he knows he's a tortoise.  But, every once in awhile, I catch him sitting in the water dish.  Sometimes he's just soaking, but other times, well...  You know how people say you should "be yourself" and not try to be someone you're not?  Well, I think this is good advice most of the time.  But I also think there's something to be said for occasionally pretending or imagining you're someone or something else.  I think Larry would agree. 

So, Larry is in the water dish but he's not soaking.  He angles himself so his front half is propped up on the edge.  He starts moving his front legs in a graceful motion.  He stretches his neck up, his face to the light, eyes closed.  Larry is now a sea turtle.

I watch him and I wonder when was the last time I closed my eyes and pretended I was a movie star or a dinosaur hunter or a...sea turtle.  (And I don't mean it in terms of trying to figure out characters, etc.) Why is "pretend" only for children and tortoises?  Maybe if adults played "pretend" a little more often, we'd be happier people.  Or happier fairies.  Or happier knights in shining armor.  Or happier...whatever.

Of course, you always want to go back to being yourself when you're done playing.  I know I'm glad when Larry goes back to being a tortoise.  I think Mrs. Larry is, too.