The other day I was taking a rather luxurious bubble bath while letting my mind wander easily. And because all critical thinking occurs in bathtubs, I started to think about Noah's ark. Now, I don't know if this was due in part because of the water filled tub or because of my lack of rubber ducky companion, however, I started to ponder this Bible story. Specifically, I started thinking about the snails. Arguably some of the slowest creatures, but they had to have made it onto the ark somehow. I came to two conclusions while questioning the snail's biblical journey. The first being that Noah could've totally just picked up the snails and placed them aboard (I don't mean to offend but who just stands there and watches a snail struggle when there's an impending flood? Noah could've saved everyone a ton of time is all I'm saying). The second was that I really identified with Noah's snails.
Now, I don't mean to allude to my Napoleon complex here by comparing myself to a tiny creature (4'11 is a mighty height and I'm willing to duel anyone who argues with me on that), but rather I mean to comment on my own inability to reach my destinations quickly. I am also aware of the positions of privilege that cause others to reach an end goal faster than me. With each inch of progress I make, I find it hard to forget how much longer it takes me to do things. This phenomenon is reflected in my personality and other aspects of myself. The way I speak, for example, is not necessarily direct. My thoughts are concise, but somewhere along the intent to communicate I find myself adding pointless details and impertinent anecdotes in a futile attempt to ensure clarity.
At that point, I realize I've lost the main idea and by consequence I forget what I was trying to say to begin with. Then I apologize for wasting the time of whomever I was speaking to. Later, however, I will jerk away from whatever inane task I find myself doing to remember word for word my original thought. Yeah, it's that bad. My friends and family are all Patron Saints of Patience at this point. The amount of late night texts I send to them with no context after my memory returns to me is borderline shameful, but that's not the point.
The point is that I know I am this way. I know my brain is too fast of a whirlwind for my mouth to keep up with. I know I could get through life easier if I was more to the point and direct. But just like Noah's snails, I don't mind taking forever to get somewhere. As long as I know where I'm going, I don't really care if it takes me longer than everyone else to get there. I think it's just a form of perseverance. Sure it's easier to hold conversation for some, in the same way that it was probably easier for the birds to fly into the ark. But the snails clearly wanted to arrive more. That long of a journey takes more commitment and struggle. And I'm comforted by that because it means that I want my thoughts to be heard more than others. Because though I struggle to get to the point, I get there. So take that, Noah.
