Seven Day Writing Challenge Day Two:Be an Otter

Luna Tian

Question Two: If one day, before your life on Earth began, God told you:
“You may choose to be any life form other than a human on this planet,”
what would you choose to be, and why?

If I could choose a non-human life form to be born as on Earth,
I would choose to be an otter 🦦.
It’s one of my favorite little animals.
I think, if I could live in this world as an otter—
a creature that looks cute on the outside but is secretly hardcore—
that would be something truly wonderful.

Otters are clever.
They know how to use tools, and they know how to socialize.
(Though I’m introverted, I genuinely enjoy connection and companionship.)
They hold hands when they sleep,
they nibble on stones,
they crack open shells with rocks,
and they treasure their favorite pebbles like prized possessions.
Strategic creatures, XD.
Sometimes they squabble with each other, too.
You see, these seemingly carefree, happy animals
are actually running their own little calculations inside.
They thrive on flexibility and adaptability.
They cannot be tamed.
Otters do not yield.
Otters know.

Most importantly, otters don’t get anxious.
They don’t rush.
Many people get anxious for me.
But I don’t like that.
What I love is taking it slow—
step by step, moment by moment.

What kind of otter would I be?

I’d have a graceful body, agile paws,
feast on my favorite fish,
rebel against any rival who tries to take my space—
and if they dare hurt my friends,
I’d bite their noses without fear.

I’d be nimble and alert,
playful and mischievous,
a hoarder of treasures, a biter when I must be.
Sometimes, I’d think of humans—
but no matter what I thought,
I wouldn’t be in a hurry.

A Little Poem: Otters Need Not Hurry

No rush, no rush—don’t be in such a rush.
When the waves come crashing, I just roll over;
when the rain falls, I call it a bath.

While others climb mountains and seek enlightenment,
I’m tumbling, daydreaming,
sometimes praying for luck.

The sun doesn’t always punch in on time.
The waves speed up for no one,
nor do the tides pause for anyone.

I don’t want life to turn into a calendar.
When the river warms, I’ll embrace it.
When the wind blows, I’ll curl up.
It’s not that I’m hiding—
I just don’t want my fur to go into full battle mode every day.

I don’t like lions or tigers,
or the eagles that slice through the sky.
They fly too high, too fast.
And I’m too lazy.
I don’t want to work that hard.
I just want to stay where I am.

I don’t believe in beauty that arrives overnight.
I’m okay with arriving late,
as long as I can collect every single verse along the way.

I have a fluffy little body.
If I have a friend, we’ll float and drift together.
If I don’t, I’ll hug a cloud and think of you.

Other otters might ask me,
“Hey Luna, why aren’t you working harder?”

And I think—ah, the suffering of the world…
Seventy percent comes from trying too hard.
The other thirty comes from bad weather.

Look at what’s in my paw—
a single shell.
And I’m tapping it slowly.

It takes three knocks to open one.
You must hesitate, must test,
and only then strike the final blow.

Just like when I love you—
if I don’t blurt it out too quickly,
that’s how you know I truly care.

Watch me as I roll over.
I’m not running away.
I’ve just learned to let water carry my emotions.

Floating is my gift.
I don’t want life to be as sharp as a knife.

As long as I’m still breathing,
you’ll hear the otter say,
“See? I didn’t waste a single meter of sliding today!”