In the abandoned ornamental garden, Rahel, watched by lolling dwarves and a forsaken cherub, squatted by the stagnant pond and watched toads hop from stone to scummy stone.
Beautiful Ugly Toads.
Slimy. Warty. Croaking.
Yearning, unkissed princes trapped inside them.
Food for snakes that lurked in the long June grass.
Rustle. Lunge.
No more toad to hop from stone to scummy stone. No more prince to kiss.
-Arundhati Roy
The God of Small Things
A toad is a toad, a collection of constantly changing cells. By the time your mind reacts to the image with the label "toad" and whatever adjectives follow, it's already not the same toad. Some molecules have died, others been born.
slimy warty croaking yearning -- all of that is view, based on your relationship to "toad."
What else in your life gets labeled automatically, even before your have time to really see it? What might look different to you -- friend instead of foe, opportunity instead of obstacle -- if you looked at it with more open eyes?
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