Evolving into the frog you were born to be...

Last night my father and I were talking and, as so often happens, the discussion centred around personal growth and change. My father is very philosophical and, much to my annoyance, he often responds to a practical question or worry I have with a quote or another question that challenges my perspective. This, as I have pointed out, is not always helpful — but, non the less, his words are insightful.

“The problem is that, rather than letting themselves grow into frogs, most people try to be the best tadpoles they can be,” was how he addressed my worries. Even though this was almost irrelevant to my actual issue, I was left astounded. I assumed this was an original observation of his but it wasn’t — it was something he had recently heard. Still, my head was filled with thoughts that stemmed from these words, so I put the sentence into ChatGPT, hoping I might come across the origins of this insight. Instead, it provided the following explanation:

Tadpoles → Frogs A tadpole is an early, limited stage of development. A frog is the fully realised version of what that creature is meant to become.

Firstly, it’s true that not all tadpoles become frogs. If the environment is not warm enough, if there isn’t sufficient physical space, or if there is a hormonal issue, the change will not occur. This leaves me presuming that the little creature will die earlier than if it had gone on to develop further. But for us human beings — with out considering the impact of stress or struggle — our lifespan is not directly related to our emotional development. We can go our whole lives as metaphorical tadpoles.

I think tadpoles are gorgeous, as are caterpillars, but if they don’t experience the physical metamorphosis that they are destined for, it means they have remained limited.

It’s not known whether tadpoles experience physical discomfort as they change, but the struggle for a newly formed butterfly to break out of its chrysalis has been well documented. They must work — fight — to set themselves free. That is why this metaphor is so often used when people are in the beginning or the middle of a period of change. We need to keep going when we are frustrated, tired, overwhelmed, or unsure of what we may find once we emerge into the light of day.

After my father spoke these words, I thought about my sister experiencing physical growing pains in her legs. To my shame, I’d never considered what it must have been like for her to be kept awake by such cramps. I remember my mum comforting her, but I also know there is little to be done to ease that discomfort beside the aids of mild pain killers and hot water bottles. So often, growing bodies simply have to endure.

So, if we are destined to evolve and change in such profound ways, why is it so painful? Why can we not allow ourselves to let go of the tadpoles we once were and accept the frogs our evolution is demanding us to become? Well, we think, of course. We have wants, needs, opinions and very substantial fears. We can create comfort in an uncomfortable situation, because being different requires persistence, time, courage and endurance —in this world, these are almost luxuries. This might be why someone can feel so motivated when they first desire change, but then waver as time goes on. We all only have so much energy. This has been me. This is me still. But now, because I’m so aware of my fears and anxieties, I am better at working with them rather than wishing them away. I understand some of their origins, and how I still feel fear in my body. As someone who can freezes, I’m learning how to move myself through that. For me, warmth is helpful — which seems obvious when considering how to work with something that has cemented inside. Warmth allows for flexibility, just as warmth can ease growing pains.

But, why try to be a frog? Because the safety and camaraderie of living among other tadpoles is, sadly, limited. Sometimes life demands that we change — that we accept things as they are, surrender, or fight. We must look at the contradictions in our minds and hearts and accept that many things can be true at once. We can be plagued by worry and still find ways to sleep. We can have no appetite and still eat. We can grieve and still keep living.

There is dignity in being a frog, and I think this can be the motivation to keep going when we are overwhelmed by worry. To strive for dignity is to allow natural evolution. To be dignified in our known struggle offers authenticity and provides a profound connection to our heart, whole self and higher self.