madam tortoise

once upon a time madam tortoise took a walk with monsieur hare. afterwards it was hard to tell whether the tortoise had lagged or the hare rushed. who had more haste who had more speed? who was the wise man and who the fool?

their walk, the step by step process of getting closer relied on equal strides forward; a matching pace, constantly adjusted. yes, it was difficult to know how exactly monsieur managed to get so far ahead.

the world goes round and we make our interpretations. our perceptions are so biased and subjective, guesses and assumptions, flawed analysis. a friend switches her phone off, does it mean she doesn’t want to talk to you, or that her battery’s run out? inaccurate interpretations result in inappropriate emotions, which in turn motivate actions.

madam tortoise kept her head half in her shell, half-concealing academic eyes. her cold-blooded reptile heart felt very suitable emotions, as she took self-controlled steps. moving so slowly, safely and carefully, thus far she had managed to avoid the risk of surprises.

monseiur hare carried high hopes, they were heavy, they made it hard for him to think about anything except the end of the walk, anticipating the relief. he stuck his neck out and took big steps, bigger, bounding strides.

I forgot to mention that the bounding hare loved the steady tortoise, and so it wasn’t too long before his hurried emotions started to feel inappropriate, uncomfortable, inconsistent. he pulled up short, something was wrong….

shock, horror, alarm bells, madam tortoise was no longer beside him!! this new perspective, this more accurate way of interpreting events, brought her back into focus, far behind and looking a little forlorn.

pause. here we join monsieur hare looking back down the path, with hands full of spare attachment, and a surplus of expectations.

what happens next? should he…

1. rush the tortoise to catch up, quick come! He could email her a good argument for all the things they have in common, life being too short, the dishonesty of unexpressed feelings. ‘hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life’.

2. admit defeat in this three-legged race, after all its such a long way back, plenty more tortoises in the sea. (turtles?!)

3. drop his hopes like they’re hot and make his sheepish way back. a retreat of sorts, emotional withdrawal back to madam’s established boundaries. wise men say only fools rush in. ‘Whoever has no rule over his own spirit is like a city broken down, without walls.’

I don’t know what should happen or what will happen, but I do know the finish line wouldn’t be any fun without you.