If a random stranger were to ask me the seminal question “Who am I?”, I could probably provide the curious stranger with 19 different answers, one for each of my years on this Earth. This question seems to pervade all human endeavors since the dawn of mankind. It is inevitable, with no concrete proof of a God or any other spiritual being, that the question of the meaning of life will always be a pervasive aspect of the human experience. There is a never a day that goes by that I do not find myself asking the same questions: Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I headed in life? I find it refreshing to ask myself these questions, and rarely do my inquiries ever take me to any sort of psychological or mental break down.
Central to my own experience as a human being is my relationship to animals. Whether it is caring for them, admiring them, or even eating them, animals form an integral part of my life. Some of my earliest memories as a child are standing by the turtle pond just north of the tower at the University of Texas, watching the grackles strut around campus, and taking care of my first pet, my box turtle Henry. These early experiences were important in shaping my appreciation for the animals in my life, and I am confident in saying that because of these experiences during my formative years, animals became a part of me and my soul.
The fact that animals form a large part of my being, it was interesting to take on the challenge of describing who I am based on a personal “totem animal” that I was to select through spiritual methods. A totem is “an animal, plant, or inanimate object with which a social or religious group feels a special affinity." [1] Finding a personal totem animal may seem like something which, as a college student in modern day America, will be impossible for me to accomplish. How, in this day in age of scientific litteracy and decreased emphasis on subconcious and spiritual experiences, am I to have any perception of what it takes to find my own personal totem animal? And how does this relate to describing who I am?
Well, to begin my journey, I sat through the “Animal Quest” audio exercise. The track begins with the light, rhythmic beating of what sounds like an ancient Native American leather drum. A man begins to calmly narrate the spiritual journey I begin to embark on. He asks me to envision myself walking through a natural setting, such as a forest. I close my eyes and I begin to walk through a deciduous forest, my feet crunching against the fallen-leaf floor and sunlight dripping through the tree branches. The man asks me to take note of what animals I see during my walk. I look down and all I can see are turtles. Many, many turtles.
What is the significance of all of these turtles? The soothing-voice man answers before I finish asking. He tells me that THIS is my totem animal. I am not at all surprised by this revelation but immediately begin to wonder if the fact that were turtles in my spiritual forest was simply due to the fact that I subconsciously knew beforehand what I would pick as my totem animal, or if this was truly an uncontrollable spiritual phenomena. Regardless, I continue with the exercise. The man asks me to put the totem animal in the palm of my hand and place it over my heart as it becomes one with me. To be honest, this was the part of the exercise that I did not really connect well with. I was then asked to have a conversation with my totem animal. I suppose I am just not really a spiritual person, but there was no way that I could even envision myself talking to a turtle and expecting any sort of response. But maybe that is one of the points of this exercise, maybe the turtle is not meant to answer me. Can I have a serious, even introspective conversation with an animal even if it does not answer back? I do not dwell on this dilemma for very long, and put the turtle back in its place and watch it munch of some tasty, juicy lettuce, seemingly without a care in the world.
As the turtle finishes his last tantalizing strip of lettuce, I open my eyes, finishing the exercise. Although I think I failed to grasp much of what the exercise was meant to enlighten me upon, I at least got out of it the core goal of this whole paper, my spiritual totem animal: the turtle. What kind of turtle? Well in my mind I pictured a sort of terrestrial box turtle or tortoise, a turtle that was not adept at life in water. This works well with me because these are the sort of turtle I particularly enjoy watching. Their nonchalant approach to survival and everyday living is something I envy, and maybe even try to espouse. A turtle, with his shell securely attached to his body, knows that he poses no threat to any other living thing, save for that fat, green lettuce leaf. In this way he is not skittish, nor is he easily frightened. It is this assurance, this awareness of his safety that I admire the most in a turtle. All of us have a unique place we go to for an escape, but a turtle is the only animal smart enough to carry it on his back.
With my new totem animal selected, I now have to ask myself “Who am I?” and “How does my totem animal fit into this?” I understand that for many people their journey in finding their totem animal may lead them to many paths and many possibilities before they finally decide on one animal. I think the fact that I was so confident that the turtle was my totem animal reflects on the fact that this truly is the animal for me. I could never see myself being any sort of mammal, life moves too fast for them (with the rare exception being a tree sloth…but I would like to think that I am not THAT unmotivated and lazy). Birds are too beautiful, too full of energy and joie de vivre. They’re just not for me. Fish seem to lack animation and seem to have no sense for their own existence. Reptiles seem to me like the perfect middle ground, lively enough to see signs of life in them, but also reclusive enough for me to relate to them.
This experience of finding my totem animal was a journey into uncharted waters for me. Never in my life have I reallyhad to make any sort of spiritual connection with anything at all. My family was not very religious and over the years they gradually made going to church less of a priority to the point that we no longer attend mass anymore. In fact, I have not personally been in over 4 years. But this aspect of my life never bothered me. Spirituality and religion always seemed to come hand in hand to me, so it was difficult for me to comprehend how I could do anything spiritual and not have it be related to religion.
I know realize the point of this totem animal exercise was to reach inside myself on a level that normal reality and conciousness could not make possible. I begin to realize that my connection with turtles is not just a fascination with their anatomy and lifestyles, but that I see myself in them and in that way we share a subconcious bond unexplanaible in normal human terms. My totem animal “[has] symbolic signifigance," [2] and because of that it is a reflection of my inner being. My totem animal is not simply an animal I think is cool or badass, it is an animal with whose experience reflects who I am.
As I consider myself well aware of who I am as a human being, it was relatively easy for me to select a totem animal and decide that it best fits me as a person. But I often wonder how other people perceive me. Do they see the same reclusive yet at the same time outgoing spirit? What would they choose as my totem animal for me? It is questions like these that sometimes keep me up at night or unable to be truly relaxed at a party. This may seem like I can never truly enjoy myself around other people, but fret not. I simply duck my head into my personal and mental shell, protected from any insecurities or worries I may have. I stick my head ou, with a new sense of confidence, assured by the fact that I have my own personal hiding spot to safely retreat to. And that, I know, any turtle milling about the turtle pond in the middle of campus, can relate to.
[1] Benet, Sula. “Encyclopedia Americana: Totem” in Composition and Reading in World Literature, edited by Professor Bump, 417. Jenn’s Copy and Binding, 2009.
[2] Andrews, Ted. “Animal-speak: The Spiritual and Magical Powers of Creatures Great and Small.” in Composition and Reading in World Literature, edited by Professor Bump, 421. Jenn’s Copy & Binding, 2009.Photos:
http://img.metro.co.uk/i/pix/2008/02/tortoisesSW_450x300.jpg
http://www.crystalinks.com/shaman.jpg
So what exactly does December 15 have to do with all of this? December 15 was the day that I was to find out about my Plan II application. There were many reasons for why this was such a stressful day. For one, I loved UT and saw Plan II as the perfect extension of my prep school education. Small classes in a giant school, complete with a national championship caliber football squad? I began salivating in August. But, as afraid as I was to admit it at the time, the main reason I was sweating bullets was the fact that I had only applied to one school…The University of Texas At Austin. And time was running out fast. My college adviser and my parents believed that I was on top of the application game. Unfortunately, I was so unwilling to even look at other schools that I never even bothered to start any other application. Lucky for me, on that fateful December 15th afternoon…a large brown envelope secured my destiny.
