Snails are fascinating. They travel through life with a house on their back. They don’t accumulate, and they don’t try to impress fellow snails with “my house is bigger than your house.”
One day I saw a snail and began thinking about a snail’s life. What would it be like to carry my house on my back? What would I use for a house? That’s easy! I already carry a backpack stuffed to the zippers with books and whatnot. I’ll empty it out and stuff it with my most prized stuff. But what stuff?
Not clothes. The snail doesn’t carry a wardrobe, so why should snail me? Give me a pair of blue jeans, a red top, and red sneakers and I’d be happy for life. Clothes might make the man but not a snail.
I thought about photo albums. Would I take them? No, I reasoned, I’ll carry the people and events in my memory. If the day comes when my memory is shot, I won’t remember the people in the photos, anyway.
What do I take? Not clothes. Not photo albums. Not my published articles or books. What then? The things of my trade that make my life sing: a laptop, a camera, and the Good Book. If your life sings, then you’ve got everything!
Now if I can get my snail feet to move a tad faster. I have places to go and things to see!
Copyright © 2017 Marion Amberg