I want to be a Tortoise

     Evolution provided life forms with an exoskeleton to begin with. As we learnt in school, the exoskeleton is a hard rigid outer structure that protects the organism inside, supports its musculature and allows for basic functions such as ingestion, excretion and a limited level of sensing geared towards survival.

     Then evolution decided to turn us inside out. Quite literally. It pushed IN the hard skeleton and pushed OUT the softer muscles. So we (the mammals) along with reptiles and birds have to cope with having our softer muscles and tissues exposed to attacks while our tough bones stay inside. This design makes us far more thin-skinned than most of our insect cousins. They waltz around with their soft inner bodies safely enclosed inside a hard shell, protected from bumps and bruises as they go about their daily business, being sure any predator having designs on them will have to think twice.

     But for the rest of us with endoskeletons... life can be a little scary.  The environment rubs up against us. Every little thorn under our feet to even a degree of change in temperature is a potential threat.

     However, as always, evolution had very practical reasons for turning us inside out. Endoskeleton allows for a far greater leavel of flexibility than an exoskeleton ever could. That means a higher level of sensitivity, greater variety of movements and a greater potential for growth. In contrast, the very rigidity of the exoskeleton limits growth. The endoskeleton is also, paradoxically, much stronger than an exoskeleton. True, an outer shell can make the organism completely immune to minor hurt and protect it from serious injuries to a certain extent. But once a major injury damages the exoskeleton, the organism simply dies. In the case of the endoskeleton, however, the orgamism is easily hurt, even a little scratch can bleed. However, in case of a major injury, the endokeleton proves to be much hardier and more resilient. This gives the organism a chance to bounce back even if serious damage is done to its structure.

     Can the same principle be applied to our hearts and minds? Or rather, our emotions and intelligence?

     The people who have unshakeable emotions and a firm stand on their ideas. Those who are envied for their thick skins. Life's nasty little surprises roll off their backs easily. Their limited or suppressed sensitivity allows them to cope with a lot of things life throws at them and keep away the predators of their life's goals. Their hard shell allows them only to perform "functions", not dance and cart wheel. This steadiness allows them to be successful in many ways. However, when a major blow stomps hard on their exoskeleton.... they seem to fall apart.... not unlike the snail whose shell is torn away....

     Then there are those whose emotions are always on the surface. The ones who cry buckets over poetry, those who are hurt by every real and imagined insult, those who dance in the rain and come down with a cold the next day... they seem to survive the major blows better.

     Is it the same exoskeleton vs endoskeleton theory at work?

     Another thing I noticed is that people who cry easily are not quite tender hearted as they make themselves out to be.  In the book "Catcher in the Rye",  Holden describes a woman crying over a stupid movie all the while ignoring the little kid with her who was in discomfort. And in the 12 years since I read the book, I have found that statement to be a very accurate description of the so called "sensitive" people, always allowing for exceptions, of course.

     Would it be ideal to be like the tortoise? Which has both the shell as well as an internal skeletal structure? A predator may be put of by the hard shell whereas those who are privileged to flip them over get to experience the softness inside? Can the shell hide us from the scratches of a rough world while our internal structure gives us the strength to survive the major whacks?  Would this be the ideal emotional skeletal structure to maintain our sensitivity while not keeping our emotions so close to the surface that they lose their meaning and depth?

      Is this analogy making sense to anyone out there?