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The Meaning Of Life From A Pig
“I was terrified, terrified of being attacked by a rabid pig”. those were my thoughts that first day. My first thoughts were of Cuyo, Stephen King’s crazy dog. Of course, that’s where my writer’s mind jumped to immediately. Or just a normal mind defaulting to the worst in a scenario. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter at all. It’s about the meaning we give to things, right?
It was Penelope and me, alone at home. I texted the owner who was vacationing in Hawaii. she laughed at my fears, and she had all the reason to do so. Penelope the pig was salivating while waiting for her lunch. So I had to give credit to Pavlov, not Stephen King. This made me think about perceptions and how we make up stories about life and people based on our beliefs, culture, and experiences.
For me, I’d never cared for a pig before. All I had were all the stories in my head and, of course, the worst-case scenarios.
This made me think about how I navigated my world.
How my experiences and self love influences the way I see the world around me.
How my attitude influences the way people react to me.
I was terrified of Penelope the first moment I saw her pacing and frothing at the mouth. However, I stopped to ask. I stopped to look at her world and what was happening within it. Later, when I…
