Recently, I posted my journal and a few pictures from my camping trip with my oldest son. We spent multiple days fishing and hiking the beautiful Buffalo National River. If you read that post, then you may remember my son’s thought-provoking conversation starter. We spent multiple days, and a few headaches, trying to find the solution for his fictional, yet deadly, brainteasing conundrum.
On the trail, I noticed a gradually progressing gastropod, more commonly known as a snail. This inherently innocent invertebrate was slowly gliding across a stone. My son had stepped right over it, not noticing it as its shell was camouflaged with the rock that it was atop. Snails are one of the most vulnerable and innocuous species that we encounter. They travel at an unusually slow pace and even though they have a hard shell, one of our shoes would have crushed it if we stepped on it. On this trip, I was concerned about bears, the multiple cottonmouth snakes that tried to bite us, and the mountain lion that more than once left tracks in between our camp and the river. An apprehension for snails has never been on my radar.
I paused from hiking to take a picture of the snail as he sat on the rock. My son, realizing that, I was no longer on his heels, turned around and asked what I was doing. I said, “I don’t think you saw this snail. You almost stepped right on him!” I caught back up with my son and we continued the trek. A few moments later, my son said, “Oh, Dad, that snail reminded me of something. So, there’s this thing that my friends and I talk about sometimes.” Then he told me about what he and I later termed “The Snail Assassin Scenario.”
The Scenario
We enthusiastically discussed this scenario for a good hour while we hiked. It hurt my head thinking about it. I told him this is one of those things that I just cannot fully wrap my brain around. It is like when I think about eternity where there is no ending, ever. Or the vastness of space and how its reach is infinite. Our human brains are wired to think about things with a measure of time or length, inevitability or finality. Most everything we do or have can be measured in some way. For me, finding no measurable solution for escaping this snail’s wrath was like trying to understand eternity and space. Headache.
Here are some of the options that we talked about:
Plan: Measure his speed. Find him and measure his speed so that you would know how much time you would have at certain distances.
Problem: You would have to only travel in a straight line your whole life. Every time you made a turn, he would adjust his straight line toward you. Also, you would not be able to account for the time traveled through valleys, ocean floors, mountains, etc. Although his speed would not change, his time of travel would mostly increase due to these factors. At some point, if you continued to stay on the run, you would end up closer behind him than he behind you. Then he would just turn around and you both would be moving toward each other. I suggested that after measuring his distance traveled, you could travel a long distance, stay for possibly years, then move on. Again, at some point you would possibly be moving toward him having no clue where he was. You would go to bed every night in fear.
Plan: Fly. Stay in the air as much as you can.
Problem: Flying is expensive. You most likely would not be able to afford flying all the time since you also would not be able to work and earn money as you are constantly on the move. Like the previous plan, you are living life in fear.
Plan: Get a huge head start. If you were to measure his speed, then you could fly halfway around the world and live there for a while. I would imagine that it would take him years to reach you. You could calculate this from his last known location with his speed and a linear straight-line path toward you. If you did not account for the valleys and hills, as discussed earlier, then you would most likely have more time than what you calculated.
Problem: After years of establishing yourself and family in this location, then you would have to move everything to the other side of the world, live there for years, then move again. You would never be able to stay in one place or community. You would most likely make it safely for decades or quite possibly even die of old age or natural causes. But, every time you move, he alters his trajectory. Therefore, you never know where his exact location is and at some point, down the road, it is likely the two of you are moving towards one another. Again, you are living your entire life in fear.
Plan: Travel to space and live on a space station.
Problem: Obviously not realistic (I guess neither is this scenario). You do not get to decide to just travel to space or be a person to live or spend extended periods of time. Years of rigorous training and then the almost impossible odds of being selected to go make this an improbable option. In the unlikely event that you were afforded this opportunity, what kind of quality of life would this be? Unless this is your high calling and purpose in life, then you are not truly living, and you are operating out of a life of fear.
In the end every solution we discussed came to a dead end and the result was a life of absolute complete fear.
On our final day of camping, we decided to go hiking one last time. We talked about many things, but on our way back I said to my son, “You’re not going to believe what I was just thinking about, again!” “What?” he asked. I replied, “That stupid snail!” I could not get that snail scenario out of my head. I told him that I believe I have a conclusion for the snail dilemma. He said, “Really? What is it!?” I said, “I think the snail teaches us about our current lives. We all have a snail after us. It represents the end of our life here on this earth. We do not know when it will come to an end. But just like the snail chasing us, we cannot live our life in fear and running from the end. We have to live and enjoy our lives right now and make the most of every moment.” I had no idea that his silly snail conversation would be the lightbulb moment for me on the camping trip.
I had been so busy working, leading, and serving (all good things) for so long that I worked myself into being needed all the time by too many people. I maximized my time and energy, but I did it for the wrong things. Being with my son, alone, for that week helped me to realize that we cannot spend our lives running from the snail. Instead, we must be aware and alert of the snail, be diligent to stay safe, but do not make him, the snail, the ruler of our every decision in life. The snail may mean something different to each of us. He may represent literal death, or maybe he represents worry, anxiety, busyness, stress, addiction, or wrong relationships in people’s lives. Whatever it is, he will always be there no matter what, but he cannot own your life unless you allow him, give him permission and authority, to do so. This is something that you decide.
As a father raising boys, I see the “Snail Assassin Scenario”: as a great lesson. Our boys will grow and be faced with all kinds of fear-causing obstacles. For some, it may be consequences for bad decisions, but that does not have to be the case. Even deciding to do good works on this earth can overwhelm us, consume our time, and even enslave us in serving and leading others. As I talk with successful people, whether financially or in leadership, I see that we all deal with the snail, fear. Many times, we look at these successful people and think that they have found a life of true peace with their success. Yes, there is a great fulfillment when you are living your purpose and helping others, but it also comes with its own opportunities for fear. Criticism, judgement, envy, employees, followers, busyness, schedules, etc. can create massive stress for leaders. They can do this directly or indirectly. Everyone, no matter who they are, has to fight the fear of whatever snail is chasing them. No one is immune.
A boy will grow to a man one day. Most likely he will marry and then become a father. He will experience the great privilege of raising children. That same privilege is also a duty, a mission, and a purpose. It comes with a load of stress, worry, anxiety, pressure, and yes, fear. Even the absolute awesome opportunity called fatherhood, can create great fear. We fear for our kids well-being and safety. We fear the relationships they make with kids at school. We fear the first time they get behind the wheel of a vehicle. We fear the day they will one day leave our home. Most of all, we fear the possibility of failing as a father. Dads, this is our snail.
This is why I write and spread my Man Among Boys message. You are not alone in these fears. But the good news is, we don’t live and die by the snail. Fear only has the platform in your life that you give it. Do not father your children out of fear. Father them from a place of intentionality, being present, and loving the life that you have in front of you. See failure not as something to fear, but as something to launch you forward. Failure is usually not an end result, rather a lesson or a try again. If you have failed at something, then that just means you now know how not to do it. If you have failed in an area as a father, then move forward with this knowledge. Be intentional, be present, and have fun being a dad and being a positive part of producing the next generation of great men, husbands, and dads.
