When I lived down at the New Jersey shore, I’d often visit a place called Corson’s Inlet. I was not only a toll collector on the various bridges that served the county Bridge Commission, but I also liked to take a swim in the bay that was part of the State park. The water was always warmer, and there were always far fewer people there than on the Ocean City beach. If there’s one negative to living at the beach it is the people who flock there every summer. They change everything, and not always for the better.
There’s a stretch of road I’d take called, if memory serves me right, Bay Avenue. There were many signs along that stretch of road that would warm drivers about turtles crossing. True to my nature, if I saw a turtle trying to cross the road, I’d stop my car and carry the turtle to the other side. I’d block traffic, not caring how many cars were behind me. The turtle’s life was much more important to me than the impatience of people.
I’d sometimes get called names, and respond with my Jersey salute and a scowl that often would end the conversation. It boggled my mind how people would have a problem with this act. Usually, though, I’d have people stop and thank me for doing it. “Those are my people,” I’d think. My tribe. They get me.
Recently, I was gifted with a metaphoric shirt that says “I brake for turtles”. It has many connotations and all of them make me smile.
My son asked me “Dad, what does that shirt mean? Of course you brake for turtles.”
I sat down next to him, deciding to offer him a bit of life advice in response to his questions. While my daughter learned long ago not to ask such questions (she doesn’t enjoy my explanations), my son is still inquisitive and wants to know about certain things.
“Well, bud, it means several things. I’ll make this quick for you.”
“Ok, Dad.” I knew Fortnight was calling him, so certainly appreciated his patience.
“First, you are braking for turtles right now.”
“I am?” he asked.
“Yep. You are stopping what you are doing to talk to your Dad. That’s a type of braking for turtles. Sometimes braking for turtles has nothing to do with braking for turtles. I’ll explain.”
“Sometimes, bud, we are driving fast in our car. So fast, in fact, that we aren’t noticing the things around us. We may not be seeing the Sun peeking through the reeds, or the way a cloud looks like a heart, or the way nature is doing Her thing all around us. We are so absorbed with getting to where we are going that we miss everything along the way.
Then, out of nowhere, a turtle decides it needs to cross the road. She may have no idea why, she just knows she needs to. So, she starts on her way. She’s scared for whatever reason, but courage rises inside of her and suddenly that first foot hits the asphalt. You both are on the same road, both sharing a destiny of sorts.
Some of us who are focused only on our destination may actually hurt the turtle. Or worse. However, if we are paying attention to the moment we are in we see the turtle, we stop, and we help her along in a way that is true to who we are. Sometimes that may mean picking her up and carrying her to the other side. Other times, it may mean just blocking traffic so she can make her own way.”
“Dad, how you do you know what to do?”
“Well, there is a voice inside you that isn’t in your head. It’s actually in your chest. You can start there. Often times, though, the turtle will tell you. Listen to her, she has most of the answers even if you don’t agree with them all.”
“But don’t people get mad because you stopped traffic?”
“Some of them. But they don’t matter. What matters in that instant is you and the turtle. You are holding space for the turtle, and sometimes that means you will hear voices not from your chest. They will scream at you, call you names, and try to make you do things that aren’t a part of who you are. They aren’t the voice you should be listening to. Remember where I said the voice you should listen to is?”
“Yeah, in your chest.”
“Yep. Your heart will never lie to you. Other voices will almost always lie to you. They are angry and afraid, and fear is a liar. They would hurt the turtle in their fear and anger. And guess what?”
“What?”
“If they hurt the turtle they are hurting you, too.”
“How?”
“Well, whenever those voices cause you to act against the truth of who you are, it hurts you. Trust me son, I’ve left pieces of myself all over the place listening to those voices. They’ve never done a thing but hurt me. My heart, while hurt sometimes, has never lied to me. Trust it and not only will you be fine, but so will the turtle you’ve been given the opportunity to brake for.
You know what else?”
“What?”
“You will be told many lies in your life. People don’t mean to tell you lies, and it may even be true for them. The truth is always within you, right in your chest. Trust that no matter what anyone else tells you. Even me. My truth may not be yours. Make yours the only one you listen to someday.
Son, I’ve often wondered ‘Who am I to disturb the natural order of things?’ Then God reminded me that I AM PART of the natural order of things. When I am true to my heart, true to myself, I am part of Her ebb and flow. I am part of Her great Sea.
Be true to you, your heart, and you will always find happiness even if you are sad first.”
“Thanks Dad.”
“You’re welcome. One other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t ever hesitate to brake for turtles. It’s not just a life you are saving, but you are expressing a beautiful part of who you are. When you express that beauty, it creates a ripple across the entire Universe. You have absolutely changed history and had a profound effect on life. She is so worth the patience, the love, and the resilience and so are you. You will learn so much braking for those turtles, I promise.”
The thing about these lessons is that they are never over. They echo in my chest forever, even when those other voices creep in. I’m actually not the teacher in this lesson, I am as much of a student as anyone else. I’m learning as I go, using the wisdom of this life toward expressing the love that lives within me.
I sincerely thank the turtle who had me pause, and practice patience. That patience has allowed me to focus intently on that voice in my chest and actually hear it above all others. Mostly, she’s allowed me grow into my expression of love, and trust that I have the strength to hold that space for her as she crosses the road regardless of the noise coming from the rear. She will be safe here, for the warrior who has stopped is fierce toward those voices while softly guarding her journey. He will always do his best anyway.
Warriors don’t just move forward with purpose. Sometimes they brake for a turtle with purpose, too.
