On Becoming a Frog

Yes, you read that correctly. Becoming a frog, and by extension, exercising my ‘frog-ness’, has developed into something of a personal imperative, an ideal even. And it’s one that I actively and even passionately pursue day after day. This, I understand will involve something of a digression, which of course I am happy to do.

As nearly forty years of journal writing will attest, I have spent my entire adult life trying to understand, define, explain, explore, protect, or simply come to terms with what is going on inside of my head. Ever since my mind was blown open by Lennon at nineteen, I have been utterly consumed by the tantalizing glimpses of a deeper, more elusive ‘self’ that was clearly demanding that I explore it. I was given no choice in the matter. Unfortunately, I lacked a proper understanding of what that fully meant back then, nor did I have the vocabulary necessary to read the signposts along the way. I simply ‘felt’ there was a much deeper version of me lurking in the fog of my confusion.

In case you’re curious, the imperative to become a ‘Frog’ comes courtesy of Tom Robbins, whose book, “Wide Awake in Frog Pajamas” first introduced me to quite a unique way of seeing myself. Of course with Robbins, there are multiple threads of off-the-wall ideas that weave in and out of his stories, but one of the more inventive ideas, imagined as only Robbins can, is that we should all aim to become Frogs, metaphorically speaking of course, which he carefully explained is not to be confused with becoming a Toad. This is an important distinction because Toads are heavy bodied, rough skinned land creatures not well-adapted for the water at all, while Frogs are thinner, athletic, nimble and are adept either above or below the water’s surface. That is a key distinction, so stay with me.

The poignance there centers on the idea that who we think we are, as unique, self-determined, self-aware individuals, is very often distorted and distracted by the surface noise we impose upon it, the chatter of our inner monolog. Psychologists have a term for this intrusion, which they label our “default mode”, meaning that we spend the bulk of our time listening to, and being directed by, the voice inside our head. There we constantly talk to ourselves; we ruminate over past conversations, stress over perceived slights from random encounters, pass judgements, worry about how others view of us, obsess over money, careers, desires, and passions. We are all over the place, and this is perfectly normal. It is our default mode, after all. Even if we briefly break away from this constant inner conversation, we often replace it with that of others, by way of entertainment. We simply set aside our own story to take on someone else’s, either real or fictional. It’s within this terrain that Robbins’ analogy exposes the bug in our pathology, which is our susceptibility to distraction, even at the expense to ourselves, locking us into a life on the surface of ourselves. This is life on dry land……the life of a Toad.

There is however, another way to exist in this world that is both deeper and far richer that deserves our attention. It is a place we all possess but seldom acknowledge or contemplate in any meaningful way, let alone spend any quality time with. This place can be as hard to grasp as a wisp of vapor, yet once experienced feels solid as bone. This is the place where the distractions of the world fall harmlessly away, and our true, genuine self is allowed to breathe, deeply, or to use Robbins’ analogy, to swim. This is life below the surface, swimming in the waters of the soul, the life of a frog.

Yet with that analogy, a simple question naturally arises… how do we find this pond of the soul? And what does it mean to ‘swim’ in it? The secret? There is no secret. That’s the blunt truth of it. There isn’t a well-trodden path leading to the water hole, with others by our side sharing in the experience. We are all unique individuals, full stop, so the “soul” path will differ for each of us. But…… I can share how I get there.

Place yourself in my head……don’t be scared, its well-lit, and imagine yourself with me while listening to a long-time favorite song, such as U2’s “A Sort of Homecoming”, a song itself about an inner homecoming, and allow a complete surrender to Bono’s full-throated spiritual yearning for deliverance during its finale.

Or to the astonishing sounds of a world class violinist capturing notes that shattered my understanding of what a mere frequency of sound can do to a mind. Put yourself there with me, at the Schermerhorn, when I heard a single note, suspended in the air for several seconds, so exquisite, so incredibly piercing that it literally expanded the way I feel as a human, and felt the expansion the moment I heard it.

Or even the experience of meditation and the degree of true inner peace that comes from concentrated attention, whether on the breath, sensations in the body, or my favorite, sitting outside in the evenings listening to the sound of birds singing. It may sound dubious for those who haven’t experienced it, but there is a 10 to 15 minute window that begins at sunset, when the neighborhood birds become especially talkative, as if passionately recounting their day to each other before bedtime. Its in those few minutes that I will shut my eyes and focus intently on capturing each and every chirp, and within minutes a symphony from Mother Nature will begin to emerge. There will be a Cardinal chirping to my left at 20 yards, followed by a Robin to my right at 30 feet, followed by a dozen or more Mockingbirds, Blue Jays, and Sparrows, all at various locations around the neighborhood, all lending their voices to the evening’s concerto.

These are but a few of my own examples of taking momentary dips into the pool. You will have your own, of course… I hope. All it takes is a willingness to surrender to the experience and allow that experience to take you where it will. Trust me, the water is fine.

To circle back with Robbins’ analogy, I recall a story from Joseph Campbell that continues to resonate in my life and poignantly fits within this conversation. Campbell explained that how we perceive ourselves is very similar to seeing our reflection in a pond. But due to our daily responsibilities and the constant distractions that arise, we seldom get a chance to SEE ourselves properly. Each new distraction that vies for our attention has the effect of pebbles being thrown into the water, creating a cascade of ripples. Therefore, on those rare occasions when we attempt to capture a glimpse of our true selves, we see nothing but broken images. Even if we briefly capture a clear view, it quickly disappears with the next distraction. Then as we age we learn to identify only with those broken fragments and think of ourselves only in terms of those fleeting glimpses. But, if we can stop the distractions, even for brief moments, and sooth the tempest swirling in our minds, it’s possible to catch the gaze of our true selves staring back.

Many years ago, back when my son, Scott, was perhaps ten, I took him to the annual “Renaissance Festival” just outside of Nashville, and while casually observing jewelry at one of the many vendors, I noticed an inexpensive necklace with a Frog as a pendent and I immediately thought of Robbins book and his imperative to “become a frog” and bought the necklace on the spot….and I have been wearing that necklace ever since, some twenty-eight years later. In fact, I refuse to wear it with any sort of clasp that would allow me to casually removed it. I tie it in a knot instead with deliberate intention.

Therefore, I wear a frog around my neck with the same intention that a Christian wears a cross, meaning that it works as a daily reminder, a type of mantra of who I really am…….which is a water loving amphibian.