The Frog And The Turtle I
A Zhuangzi Parable
[Author’s Note: First published in Medium on August 1, 2024. Now that a Frog and Turtle II will be released soon, I thought it helpful to share this part I. In this story, I play the Frog and the world I refer to losing was my career and identity in 2019. That was five years ago. This is why the last line of the story brings up my emotions to this day.]
Zhuangzi (Master Zhuang) was a philosopher who lived in the 4th century BCE and is credited with authoring The Zhuangzi, a book that stands next to The Daodejing as a foundational text of Daoism. His book is in one sense more readable than Laozi’s, due to the reliance on fables and stories, but knowing something about Chinese history helps improve the experience. The use of parable and humor makes The Zhuangzi a more entertaining read than The Daodejing for many.
My first introduction to the concepts of Daoism were through The Zhuangzi. I picked up a good Penguin translation in 2019 at a bookstore in Shenzhen on a going-out-of-business clearance sale. I loved that store and love that book. The Zhuangzi introduced me to Laozi, and led up to the work I am doing today.
So why not write about The Zhuangzi? Well for one, the story format is harder to add to. I don’t feel qualified to just tell people what I think the lessons are. I am no sage. For another, more knowledge about Chinese history, dynasties, and culture helps, and I am no scholar. Finally, The Daodejing came first, and convinced me to start writing. The subject is more foundational and the chapters more amenable to analysis.
So, the story that follows has been known to me for many years. Why do I feel differently now, and why add it to our story at this point? Again, I give thanks to LinYutang and acknowledge the contribution of a master translator. This version comes from a small book of his collected short stories of many authors of antiquity. Why did he choose this one of all the other Zhuangzi fables? I will never know. Reading his words, with such flourish, brings tears to my eyes. But I think I’ve grown, in acceptance and understanding, so here goes.
The frog said to the turtle of the Eastern Sea, ‘What a great time I am having! I hop to the rail around the well, and retire to rest in the hollow of some broken bricks. Swimming, I float on my armpits, resting my jaws just above the water. Plunging into the mud, I bury my feet up to the foot arch, and not one of the cockles, crabs, or tadpoles I see around me are my match. Besides, to occupy such a pool all alone and possess a shallow well is to be as happy as anyone can be. Why do you not come and pay me a visit?
Now before the turtle of the Eastern Sea had got its left leg down, its right knee had already stuck fast, and it shrank back and begged to be excused. It then told the frog about the sea, saying, “A thousand li would not measure its breadth, not a thousand fathoms its depths. In the days of the Great Yu, there were nine years of flood out of ten; but this did not add to its bulk. In the days of Tang, there were seven years of drought out of eight; but this did not make its shores recede. Not to be affected by the passing of time, and not to be affected by increase or decrease of water — such is the great happiness of the Eastern Sea.” At this the frog of the shallow well was considerably astonished, and felt very small, like one lost….
Poor, silly, little frog. He must have been so happy and fulfilled. Every day he worked and played in his shallow pool. Confident in his world, he knew nothing of fear. No other being was his match. So confident he was, and so generous to share his happiness, that he invited the Eastern Turtle to experience his paradise. Maybe they had an email correspondence or met at an industry conference? Every really good story has plot holes. We will set aside how Frog knows Turtle yet knows nothing of the world beyond his shallow pool.
The Great Turtle of the Eastern Sea, how surprised he was to place his foot in the pool of his friend. Yet Frog’s pool was a danger to him, and he was unable to enter. How awkward Frog’s embarrassment and confusion! How urgent Turtle’s panic and haste to explain. Turtle didn’t understand Frog’s world any more than Frog understood his. And so, tragedy strikes.
…. and the frog felt lost. I feel lost. My little splash-pond-world was taken from me. Taken by degrees and many people. Taken by my hubris and my unrealistic views of what I could and should do. Pushing the limits of trustworthiness past the limits of what anyone with a degree of sense could see. In my heart, I could see it too. Does the frog blame the Eastern Turtle? Did the turtle know what he was about to do?
What does the frog do now? I like to think he could leave his shallow pool behind and explore the Eastern Sea, immersing himself in the vastness and getting really comfortable with the idea and reality of being small and lost. I don’t know if he can reconcile this vision of himself with the past. He might try building new walls, attempting to recreate his shallow little pool of comfort and cowardice. Because it would be cowardice, now that he knows more about the world.
This parable is about the dangerous nature of knowledge and the pleasant confidence of ignorance, but also its fragility. Both characters are blind to their own place in the world and the effects they have on others. Is there peace of mind in that constant push forward, to explore more truths? I don’t know, but when we stop growing, stop learning, we place ourselves in danger.
Language fails me when most needed, or I yet fall short of the understanding and skill to express myself. I am not LinYutang. This will have to do. Frog and Turtle will see us again.
