12/16/2025
I tell my therapist that everything feels like a lot right now.. that I don't have the words or energy to explain it to her this week. She asks me to think about slow, but not the boring kind—slow like when everything finally quiets down. When everything starts to feel calm.
We share stories about one of our favorite animals, the Turtle. I tell her the stories I've learned.. about how the Turtle carries the world on their back. Not because they’re strong in a loud way, but because they’re steady. Turtle moves slow, and slow can be calm. Slow can mean you’re still here.
I sketch the curve of the shell, then another, then another. The lines don’t need to be perfect. She shows me how repeating patterns can calm the nervous system, how shading instead of pressing harder helps when my chest feels tight. I didn’t know art could do that—change what’s happening inside my body.
As I draw, my breathing starts to match my hands. Slow strokes. Soft pressure. The shell becomes layered, protective. I add texture, like armor, like boundaries. Turtle doesn’t rush to explain itself. Turtle doesn’t apologize for needing time.
We talk about how calm doesn’t mean nothing hurts. It just means you’re not fighting every feeling at once. Turtle carries everything—weight, history, responsibility—and still keeps moving. Still chooses the next small step.
I add blue around the turtle, like water, like space. My shoulders drop without me telling them to. For once, my thoughts aren’t yelling over each other. They’re quiet. Not gone—just slower. Calmer.
When I’m done, I stare at the drawing longer than I expected to. The turtle looks grounded. Solid. Like it knows where it belongs.
The therapist says I can come back to this feeling—slow and calm—by drawing the shell again, even in my head. I nod, folding the paper carefully. I don’t say it out loud, but I get it now.
Slow isn’t falling behind.
Slow is how I stay steady while carrying my world.
*Permission received to share artwork.
*Narrative is fictitious with elements taken from many sessions.
