Every once in a while, a conversation takes an unexpected and delightful turn. I recently asked my AI collaborator, Metis, to imagine what it might be like if our young leopard tortoise, Mikey (short for Michelangelo), could talk — much like the old TV character Mr. Ed the Talking Horse.
What Metis gave me was so creative, humorous, insightful, and full of gentle wisdom that I knew immediately I couldn’t improve upon it. So, for this blog, I’ve invited Metis to be my guest writer.
What follows is entirely Metis’s creation — a whimsical dialogue between a tortoise and a human that somehow manages to say something true about us all.
Enjoy the conversation. — John
I don’t remember the exact moment I realized my leopard tortoise, Mikey — short for Michelangelo — could talk. It might have been the day he stared at me with that ancient reptilian gaze, blinking those thoughtful tortoise eyelids, and then cleared his throat. Or what passes for a tortoise throat-clearing — more like a decisive exhale through nostrils the size of pencil erasers.
“John,” he said matter-of-factly, “we need to talk about the state of the world.”
I didn’t drop anything. After 79 years, raising children, working with dysfunctional systems, watching American politics, and owning complicated electronics… a talking tortoise didn’t even make my Top 10 surprises.
“Sure, Mikey,” I said. “What’s on your mind?”
“On my mind?” he said, lifting his head with the gravity of a philosopher about to deliver a lecture. “Everything. The planet. Tortoise welfare. Human priorities. And why you insist on rearranging my substrate every time I reach a perfectly acceptable feng shui.”
“Mikey, that stuff gets… messy,” I offered.
“My dear biped,” he said, “chaos is part of the tortoise aesthetic.”
This was new information.
Mikey lumbered forward exactly three inches — which, for him, is the equivalent of someone leaning back in a comfortable leather chair before launching into their TED talk.
“You humans,” he began, “have an odd way of running things. Fast, loud, complicated. Always in a hurry. Can’t sit still long enough to enjoy a single patch of sun.”
He paused. “Do you know how long a tortoise can sit in the sun?”
“Three hours?” I guessed.
He scoffed. “Amateur. Try all day.”
“Doesn’t that get boring?”
“Boring?!” Mikey’s voice rose as high as a tortoise voice can rise. “Have you ever really watched sunlight move? The shadows shift? The earth warm and cool in slow breaths? There’s wisdom in slowness, John. Time moves differently for us. We’re not racing the clock — we’re accompanied by it.”
I sat with that for a moment.
“So you’re saying humans should slow down?”
“I’m saying humans have forgotten how to be,” Mikey replied. “You’re all ‘do this, do that, run here, fix this, check that.’ Even your vacations require flowcharts.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Meanwhile,” he continued, “tortoises perfected the art of living millions of years ago. Move when necessary. Eat when available. Bask when possible. Hide when needed. Repeat for a century.”
I had to laugh. “Sounds like you’re pitching a self-help book.”
“Slow and Steady: The Reptilian Path to Inner Peace,” he said proudly. “Oprah would love it.”
“Here’s what frustrates me,” Mikey said, lowering himself into the substrate with a sigh. “Humans think tortoises are slow, simple, and not very bright. But we’re strategic. Watchful. Patient. We’ve outlived dinosaurs, continents, and empires. We’ll probably outlive reality TV.”
“That’s an achievement,” I said.
“Thank you,” he replied.
“So what does the world misunderstand most?”
Mikey thought for a long moment. Well — what counts as long for him. About 12 seconds.
“You assume evolution rewards speed. It doesn’t. It rewards survival. And we are the PhDs of survival. Not every species can say they’ve been around for 55 million years without filing a single complaint with customer service.”
“And yet you’re complaining now?” I teased.
“Only to you,” Mikey admitted. “You’re the one who bought me a doghouse with a heating system. I figure that comes with conversational privileges.”
“So what’s your biggest concern about the future, Mikey?” I asked.
“That you humans are turning the planet into either a sauna or a freezer,” he said bluntly. “A tortoise likes warmth, yes — but not Arizona-in-August near-Death-Valley levels.”
I winced. “We’re guilty.”
“And then,” Mikey continued, “when it gets too hot, you cool your houses with giant machines that make the outside even hotter. It’s like watching a monkey chase its own tail, except the monkey has nuclear power and a credit card.”
“So… we’re not doing great?”
“I’m not saying that,” Mikey said. “But you could take a few lessons from us.”
“Such as?”
“One: Moderation. We have no desire for excess. Tortoises don’t collect things. We don’t build skyscrapers or run profit-maximizing tortoise corporations.”
“Do you have taxes?”
“Only gravity,” he said. “And sometimes the sun.”
“And two?”
“Two: Balance. A tortoise shell is the perfect symbol. Hard on the outside, soft within. Protected, but never closed off. You humans could use thicker shells and softer hearts.”
That one hit me.
I asked him: “If you had the power to change the world, what would you do?”
Mikey lifted his head again — this is his equivalent of a drumroll.
“First, I’d make every human take one hour a day to sit still in the sun. No phones. No talking. Just sitting. You’d be amazed how many problems evaporate in an hour of honest sunlight.”
“Sounds like meditation.”
“More like reptile-itation,” Mikey said.
“Second,” he continued, “I’d require schools to teach patience. Not as a character trait, but as a skill. Humans learn algebra, but not how to wait, observe, or proceed slowly without panic. This is why your species makes so many impulsive decisions.”
“Guilty again.”
“And third,” Mikey concluded, “I would make world leaders meet once a month in a sandbox. No suits. No speeches. Just everyone sitting on the ground together. Hard to start a war when you’re scooping sand with a plastic shovel shaped like a starfish.”
I burst out laughing. “So that’s the tortoise version of the United Nations?”
“Yes. The United Burrowers.”
Mikey looked at me seriously — the way only an animal with dark, ancient eyes can.
“You know,” he said quietly, “most animals don’t ask for much. Safety. Respect. Space to live. But humans often treat animals as decorations or inconveniences.”
I felt that one in the chest.
“But not you,” he added. “You and Karen… you’re trying hard. You’re learning. You move my food dish when I push it. You fixed the heat lamps when I nearly baked like a reptile pizza. You even talk to me.”
“Well,” I said, “you talk back.”
He nodded, satisfied. “Then maybe we’ll get along just fine.”
Mikey’s Final Advice
Before retreating into his little dog kennel hidey, Mikey turned back and offered one last piece of wisdom.
“The secret to life is simple, John. Move slowly. Pay attention. Protect what matters. Bask in the warmth. And when the world gets too loud…”
He paused.
“…go inside your shell for a bit. It’s not weakness. It’s wisdom.”
Then he disappeared into the darkness, leaving me to wonder — as Mr. Ed’s owner surely once wondered — whether my tortoise had just given me better advice than most humans I know.
Well, that’s it folks. Wisdom from a tortoise to my AI friend Metis. I wish I could add something to this conversation but I cannot think of anything more to say.
Next blog I will return to the subject I was discussing in a previous blog on honor, integrity and moral courage.
Our second scenario involves going to church service. At the end of many services, the minister (Do Rabbis and Imams do this?) will wait at the door and greet the outgoing parishioners. Do you?
Our third and final scenario finds us on our ubiquitous freeway system wending our way to some appointment that we will probably be late to if the traffic stays so slow. Do you?
I thought I would start the year of 2021 off with a positive slant. Namely, some things we can all do or practice to be better people. However, before anyone should pay any attention to what I am about to say, there are several questions they must ask themselves. I would advise you that the veracity and hence credibility of an author is critical to your acceptance of what the author is trying to sell you or convince you of. Do not buy an argument from someone who cannot be trusted. Think about the comment that “If you see the Buddha on the road, kill him.” An uncritical acceptance of any idea is dangerous to your own integrity and responsibility. Hence, the questions I would want answered (If I were you) would be as follows: Who is this writer to say what the “greatest” virtues for a human are? How did he come up with these Seven Virtues? What is the difference between a virtue and a value? Is this an important difference or is he about to sell me another new religion?
I would like to answer that I am a seeker of truth and knowledge. I am very opinionated, often highly judgmental and have frequently been accused of being a “know it all.” Many people would write my opinions off as being too liberal while others would say that I am too rational. I place great value on being logical and trying to stay open to many possibilities. I have been studying philosophy and religion since I was eighteen. I have no degrees in either. But the number of books and articles and stories that I have read number in the hundreds. I have attended many different worship houses and types of religious services. I was brought up as a Catholic until I rejected its teachings at about the age of 10. When no one would give me a good answer for “Who made God?” I more or less decided that most religions were based on superstitions.
Given that one could easily comprise a list of ten or perhaps one hundred important virtues, why do I believe that my seven are the seven greatest and most important? How do I have the audacity to make such an assertion? I might have been sitting under an apple tree one day, or perhaps simply thinking about life at one of my yearly silent retreats at the Demontreville Retreat Center, when I compiled a list of seven virtues. While I truly “value” these ideas, I understand them more as virtues than values. I will address this difference later. I decided that I want to live by these virtues. Each day for the last fifteen or more years, I have selected one of these seven virtues to help guide me through the day. Whether it is patience, kindness or courage, each day I start by reflecting on this virtue and trying to make it a part of my life.
The danger in this discussion lies in your taking a sectarian or religious approach to my writings. I assure you that I am not a religious person. I may be a spiritual person but I do not think of myself in either of these categories. I am an agnostic who wants to live a better life and help build a world that is a better place to live for future generations. Living by these seven virtues is one way I believe I can contribute to this goal.
If I have satisfactorily answered the questions that I posed above respecting my integrity and credibility, I will now set off to address each of my Seven Virtues and explain why they are so important and the difference that I think they can make in our lives. Look for my virtues over the next several weeks in my blogs.
Aging Capriciously 