The other day, I was running down the street, worried about completing my pending errands as soon as possible, when I encountered the most unexpected passer-by who forced me to stop abruptly. Down on the concrete floor, I found a huge snail. I knelt next to it to see it better and take a photograph of the impressive specimen. I wondered where the snail came from and what its destination was. Apparently, it had escaped from a small patch of grass next to the sidewalk and was sliding into the lush garden of the house in front of me. An amazing new house for sure, the garden looked like a jungle compared to the small patch of grass.
The only problem for me was that the snail was gliding too slowly—to no one's surprise, that is the main characteristic of a snail—but I must confess that, like a devoted father, I became concerned for the snail's well-being, considering the next one. Passerby might not be as careful as me.
But just as I was thinking about tearing it off the pavement and doing the favor of depositing it at the desired destination, a group of people passed by and I had to step aside. The group passed by without noticing the snail on the ground and, contrary to my expectations, the snail did not retreat into its shell. The snail continued its journey, slowly but diligently towards its destination.
This situation made me reflect on the fact that I was the one in a hurry, not the snail. The snail knew perfectly well how long it would take to reach the destination and the dangers involved. The snail was not worried about the future. I was.
And that fact made me realize that we refuse to endure the time it takes to get to the end of the supermarket line, the traffic jam, to complete our work shift, and we want to speed up the time it takes to receive the job promotion or for our new company to pay the bills. Most of the time we want to rush through life, but as we approach our final destination and our mortality looms on the horizon, we suddenly want to stop the clock. And what's worse, we beg the heavens to be able to turn back time.
We are so eager to experience life that when we do things we are more concerned with completing them as quickly as possible than enjoying the journey.
I remember the wise words of my second grade teacher, “Don't rush through life,” he used to say, “enjoy all stages of life to the fullest,” and he was right…we rush through life so desperately that when we are children , we want to become adults, earn money and be the owners of our decisions, only to later, during adulthood, want to be children again. Unfortunately, because most of us recognize that true happiness is surrounded by a halo of innocence and daydreaming that only childish minds can use to apply as a colorful filter to life.
Today more than ever, in the era of instant gratification provided by the Internet, when we are used to receiving recognition, good wishes and successes in a matter of seconds to feed the insatiable monster that our self-esteem has become, we need to rewire our brains. to learn to deal with the frustration of long trips. We need to learn to find pleasure in the sacrifice necessary to reach the goal, because the road to all good things can be long and we want to spend that part of our lives happy. Just like we did as children when imagining our adult lives.
Two hours after completing all my tasks, I returned to my car the same way I came and, to my surprise, the snail had completed its journey to the garden. I smiled, mentally thanking the snail for the valuable lesson: next time you are in a hurry, calm down and get rid of anxiety by breathing deeply and realizing that as long as you walk in the right direction, you will reach your destination eventually, and if you enjoy the journey, Even if the prize at the end of the road might disappoint you, you would have spent most of the time being happy.
M. Ch. Landa
