Making Stuff Happen

Q: Four frogs are sitting on a log. Three decide to jump off. How many are left?

A: Four. Deciding to jump isn’t jumping.

Most of us have said this to ourselves at one time or another:

I’m going to do it this time. I didn’t do it last time because [insert excuse here]. The time before that, I lost my nerve. The time before that–well, I just flat chickened out that time. But this time, I’m really going to do it.

It doesn’t really matter what it is. Most of the time, we still end up not doing it.

And no wonder. When you’re nice and warm on your log, you don’t really want to jump into the water. It’s dark. It’s probably cold. There might be snakes in there, or gators, or spiders. A frog could get hurt jumping in there. It ain’t easy being green, after all.

Except frogs belong in the water. It’s their element. Yes, they’re great jumpers, but they’re better swimmers. And sitting on the log, they’re not jumping or swimming, either one.

In the end, the log is no safer than the water. Plenty of birds eat frogs, after all.

Are you in your element? Or is your element the thing you keep deciding to do and not doing?

You’ll never know if you don’t jump off the log.

I've been a soldier, a dreamer, a working stiff, a leader. A husband, father, example (good and otherwise), and now a survivor. I write about courage, because courage is what enables us to accomplish the impossible. If you draw breath, I love you. If you love in whatever way seems best to you and want others to love in whatever way seems best to them, I am your ally. If you believe someone is less than you because they do not love the way you do, I oppose you. If you see someone as a threat to be abused or destroyed merely because they do not look like you, or love like you, or worship like you, I am your enemy. I am a joyful and courageous man. And I stand with you who love.