Nature Valley

Zero Dynamics Presents: Ad Copy Pitch Series

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You are imperfect. You know this. Everyone else knows this. And that's mostly okay.

You're 40 and saw a YouTuber hiking in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. You felt the call of the wild.

Your shorts are new, your backpack is new, your hiking boots are new. Your body is not.

You take a swig from your new water bottle and wipe the mixture of sweat and primordial mist off your forehead. The strain on your knees and ankles makes you ponder why you waited until you were 40 to hike in a place you'd always wanted to see.

At times, it seems like the outdoors don't want you there. Gaia is uninviting at best, using the elements to sap the energy out of you.

The mosquitoes keep coming back to the same spots of sweet, sweet blood on the back of your hand and your calf, as if Artemis had purposefully set her familiars on you, to the point that your mind often returns to the bear spray in your bag.

You relieve yourself in a thicket of salal bushes and ponder the mistakes you made that not only led to your divorce but also to thinking you deserved to enjoy an outdoor excursion.

You're not your ancestors, barrel-chested with actual body hair. You have wisps of silk on just your arms and legs. They could string a bow, skin a deer, and use every part. You don't grow chest hair, only those unsightly hairs around your nipples.

You can barely make it through a workday without at least two cups of coffee and having to take a short walk down the hall of the office to keep the blood in your legs circulating.

You made the mistake of not allowing yourself the time to eat a real breakfast before you left the hotel. A banana chased with a paper cup of water? It wasn't enough, even if you thought, “Water and fruit? That's healthy.”

Your stomach is complaining, your legs are tired, the clouds don't look great, and you may have lost the trail. Worse still, you still have the image in your head of your friend sinking into that quicksand. His cries haunt you and will continue to haunt you for the rest of your life.

But two things make it all better.

First, you alone are the one with the chalice now. You found it in that cave together with Gary. The dirt caked on couldn't hide its golden luster. It's yours now. He's at the bottom of a pit of quicksand.

And second, you remember what you have in your bag: chewy, crunchy relief. Oats, nuts, fruit? Maybe even some chocolate? All in a convenient bar? The other gods in the pantheon may have abandoned you, but Demeter did not.

To err is human, forgiveness is divine. Forgive yourself with a Nature Valley bar, and may at least one of the gods smile upon you.