I dreamt I was an Emperor Penguin..while I got my teeth cleaned.

My mouth was dripping with drool as I sat apprehensively in the plastic-covered dentist chair. I was staring at the lamp shining directly above me, trying desperately to distract myself from the excruciating pain I was feeling from Dr. T's deadly gum probing. As she drilled her way into the crevices of my teeth and reminded me nicely to "not forget about the back of my mouth when brushing", I started thinking about Emperor penguins and began feeling a bit jealous that in the entire span of their lives, they never have to be subjected to the kind of agony I was experiencing at that moment. Sure, they have to put up with the harshest, crappiest weather (we're talking blizzards), are forced to walk (or should I say waddle) miles and miles for DAYS just to get food, AND must protect themselves (as well as their chicks) from ugly predators like the leopard seal (who could definitely use some dental work) - yet I still feel like they have it somewhat easier than we do. They don't have to worry about cavities nor periodontal disease nor what have you; all that matters to them is the survival of their own colony.

My mind has been fixated on these regal creatures since yesterday afternoon, when I started watching March of the Penguins. I was ultimately astounded by the many things they had to go through just to survive, the love stories that came anew each year as they found their one true mate for the season, and the journey they embarked on together, snowstorm, after snowstorm, after snowstorm. But what impresses me most about them is the simplicity of their lives. Their whole being revolves around survival and the special, innate concern they have for their offspring. Within their colony there is no status quo to uphold - there are no rich penguins that drive range rovers, nor celebrity birds that are stalked daily by paparazzi penguins. There is no cosmetic surgery to alter beaks to the perfect size and shape, and there is no need for diets, trainers nor exercise machines. In their world, alcohol, drugs, and smoking do not exist; there is no need for rehab or AA. There are no thoughts of war nor diplomatic relations; there is not an ounce of imperialism nor a sign of capitalism anywhere in their colony. They never have to doubt their capabilities as penguins - they just do as they have done for the past thousand years. They don't get depressed, and for that matter, don't see shrinks, nor have any need for anti-depressants and caffeine. They are confident in themselves, and believe that even through the harshest winters, they have a chance of survival. Their parenting skills are top-notch that they ought to be the envy of every parent on this planet. They don't have to worry about debts, loans and mortgages; they don't have credit cards nor shopping malls - just ice walls and a vast oceanic playground. They're not lazy, either - they march for days on end without complaining, despite hunger and exhaustion. As I sat on that plastic-covered dental chair, hypnotized by my own imagination, I came to the obvious realization that life as an emperor penguin seemed cooler than life as a human being (no pun intended). But as my mother would say, "be careful what you wish for."

It's not that I want to magically transform into a penguin, nor move to Antarctica any time soon. I was just oddly intrigued by these funny-looking birds in chubby tuxedo suits, waddling about and gliding on their fat bellies. Somehow, they inspired me to appreciate life and all it has to offer - whether it be good or bad. Emperor penguins have a regal way of showing how much they truly value life - putting us humans (who seem to have a knack for inflicting pain on each other) to shame. While we do horrible things to our own kind, there are creatures like the Emperor penguins, who, even at the very bottom of the Earth, are able to teach us how to live beautifully, gracefully, and SIMPLY. My superficial worries fade in comparison to the penguin's annual tribulations. It dawned on me that my life - my human existence, is actually a bit selfish. Previously empowered by thoughts of individual achievement and personal success, I realize that life does not just revolve around me, nor any other human individual alone. The emperor penguins have taught me to think about the earth and its inhabitants as a whole - and that life, just as it should be, is ultimately about caring for the well-being of every single living thing on the planet.

Talk about a profound reflection on a dental chair.