There once was a man who carried a snake in his chest.
It wasn’t real flesh and scales — it was a thing of thought and pride.
The snake whispered to him every day:
“Stay in control.”
“Don’t let them see too much.”
“Hold your emotions — that’s how you stay powerful.”
And so he did.
He built walls that looked like wisdom, and armor that looked like confidence.
People admired his composure, but they didn’t know the cost.
Because inside, the snake coiled tighter — feeding on every unspoken word, every swallowed tear, every smile that hid the ache.
One night, the man dreamed of a quiet pond under a silver moon.
He saw ripples in the water — and from the depths rose a small green frog.
It looked at him with the kind of honesty only nature can hold.
And the frog spoke:
“You’ve mistaken control for peace.
You don’t need to guard the water — you need to feel it.”
The man didn’t understand. But something inside him softened.
He reached to touch the frog…
and the snake hissed.
“Don’t listen! If you open your heart, you’ll lose everything.”
But this time — the man was tired of listening.
He reached into his own chest, took hold of the serpent’s head,
and with one breath of courage — he cut it off.
Silence.
Then, stillness turned to sound.
The frog began to sing.
A song that wasn’t made of words,
but of release — raw, emotional, alive.
And as the man listened,
his tears finally came.
He cried — not from pain, but from remembering what it felt like to feel.
To live without guarding, without proving.
To be soft and still be strong.
When he awoke, his chest was light.
No more hissing. Just the gentle rhythm of his own heart —
and the echo of that frog’s song reminding him:
“When you silence the ego, your soul remembers how to sing.”
The moral of “The Snake and the Frog” is this:
True strength is not control — it’s emotional freedom.
When you silence the voice of ego that tells you to stay guarded, you make room for your authentic self to rise and express.If you would like to look at this deeper you can find it here.