boiling frog

:: ::  There I was, standing at the washbasin, at the very edge of hope, thinking:

This might be a frog-in-the-water moment.

Uhm. ‘moment’ is a misnomer. Considering I plopped into the pot a long time ago, and that I’ve since had  several such ‘moments’. Back-to-back. But never mind, lah! ‘moment’ sounds so clever. The brevity implied makes for a more pregnant turn of phrase.

Oh, Vanity!

You put a frog in a nice cool pot of water, and he’s happy and swims around. But if you put a flame underneath the pot and slowly raise it, chances are he’ll boil to death. On the other hand, if you dump a frog in a pot of boiling water, he’ll leap right out and hop off like crazy.

My life has been on the simmer for years. Then it cooled a bit. That New Year’s morning, the flame flew up and pushed the water to a rolling boil. The frog – that would be me – is still alive. And may, in his shock, leap out of the seething water. Quicker than you can belch up a croak.

I hope. I hope. I hope.

Be thankful for those events that break your heart.