Beneath the surface

I have struggled with writing tonight.

Some days, it just flows, and other days, it is like swimming in cement.

I was thinking about our places in the world. As humans. I think many of us question our purpose in life.

I tried to write it a dozen different ways… this supposition that we have a special role, or function in this realm.

Finally, I conclude it wasn’t the thing to write, because I was looking at it the wrong way.

So instead of beating this to death, I moved on. I decided to select one of my photos, and make observations. And here was this frog.

This Frog. Perfectly content. Perfectly happy. It was sitting on this rock, simply at ease with being a frog. With life.

Why can’t we humans be so content, and peaceful, and easy in our space? By this look on this guy’s little face, everything is as fine as frog’s hair.

Then it hit me.

This could be a little prince sitting there. Cursed by an evil witch. Waiting to be kissed. And despite his placid facade, on the inside he is screaming. Waiting. Hoping for rescue from his miserable amphibious existence.

And there it is.
Some days we see the magic everywhere.
And some days it is like swimming in cement.

Our human condition, after all.


“Keep your best wishes, close to your heart and watch what happens”
― Tony DeLiso, Legacy: The Power Within


“Until he extends the circle of his compassion to all living things, man will not himself find peace.”
― Albert Schweitzer