Guest Blog: Kermit the Frog (excerpt)

[alanajoli]

Taking inspiration again from devon_monk's previous advice about goals, I'm stepping up my efforts to get the guest blogging back on schedule. This week, I'm introducing someone who needs no introduction -- a frog among men. I mean, of course, Kermit the Frog, leader of the Muppets, and author of the recent autobiography Before You Leap: A Frog's Eye View of Life's Greatest Lessons. This excerpt is from the chapter "Finding Your Inner Tadpole: A Frog's Spiritual Journey."

As a note, if you haven't kept up with the Muppets recently online, do yourself a favor and visit Muppets.com. You can also find several of the Muppets over on YouTube, where they filmed some recent responses to other people's videos.

--

What is your inner tadpole? There are many different definitions. Some call it your soul or spirit. Others call it your conscience. Others call it that annoying little voice that tells you to laugh even though the last joke that Fozzie told was really not all that funny. Whatever you decide to call it, your inner tadpole is what guides you through the calm streams and raging rapids of life. It is what keeps you afloat at low tide and goes skinny-dipping with you at high tide. It is the essence of you.

So why worry about it? I mean, if it's the "essence" of you, that means it's already hanging out inside you. It can take care of itself, right? On the contrary, your inner tadpole needs you to care for it. It needs you to say, "Thank you, inner tadpole" and "Hey, inner tadpole, want to play a game of solitaire together?" In other words, your inner tadpole needs to know you care.

Young children, being tadpoles themselves, are very much in touch with their inner tadpoles. Their voice of innocense is the voice of their inner tadpole speaking loud and clear. It is refreshing, bracing, and sometimes embarrassing, but it is always honest.

As we leave childhood and deal with all the crises and chaos that come with being a grown-up, we can lose touch with our inner tadpole. We don't talk to it. We don't call or send a box of candy. We get too busy to listen to our inner tadpole, and as a result, we become what is referred to in Swamp Psychology 101 as an outer toad.

...

Now, where were we? Oh right, close your eyes. Relax your body. Think wonderful thoughts, then reach outward. Because your inner tadpole has no size or shape (which makes buying clothes tough, but is otherwise pretty neat), you won't feel anything when you wrap your arms around him or her. But you'll know. You'll be filled with happiness. Now close your eyes, embrace, and squeeze.

Not too hard! After all, your inner tadpole is fragile.

That's it. Just like that. Not too much, not too little. Just right. Gentle. Tranquil. Serene. Perfect.

You're at peace with yourself. ... Hey, you two are great together. Now don't lose touch!

And if you ever want to do a doubles act, give me a call. I'm always looking for talent.

Comments

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

Thanks for catching that -- I hate it when I forget that one itsy thing that messes up the code. :)

Re: kermit

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

*lol!*

[randyhoyt.livejournal.com]

Kermit's ideas about our essence and about growing up remind me of the nature of daemons in Philip Pullman's *His Dark Materials* trilogy. (I really enjoyed the first book, *The Golden Compass*; the others, less so.) In Lyra's world, this "inner tadpole" is actually external and can come in many different animal shapes. As a child, your daemon can change shapes, but as you grow up your daemon takes on a fixed shape.

My daemon is a fox named Polly. :~)

[pmoc.livejournal.com]

Well, if Golden Compass has redeeming qualities I may have to read it. Kermit does have some compelling insights but I wonder if they aren't to serve a more sinister purpose. You know, because he's a puppet.

[randyhoyt.livejournal.com]

I think *The Golden Compass* does just about everything right as a fantasy novel: gripping narrative, great characters, fascinating insights into our own world by looking at another world, etc. It's really wonderful! Sadly, the second and third novels get a little "preachy" (if that's the right word to describe Pullman) and a little far out there. They did still have some powerful moments and I'm glad I read the whole series, but I definitely highly recommend at least the first one, *The Golden Compass*.

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

I think the writing is beautiful in the *His Dark Materials* books, and the concepts interesting -- but neither enough so that I am a fan of the series.

As far as puppets go, isn't it more prudent to worry abou the intent of the person behind them? :)

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

Daemons are definitely the coolest part of the *His Dark Materials* books -- the idea that you can look at your soul is wonderfully fascinating. :) Kermit's inner tadpole would totally approve!

[randyhoyt.livejournal.com]

Alana, Do you know what animal your daemon would be?

It is so awkward saying "the *His Dark Material* books", with "the" and "His" right together like that. But I can overlook that because the title is otherwise very cool. It comes from a line of Paradise Lost. As Satan stares into the abyss, he comtemplates the possibility that God might "ordain / His dark materials to create more Worlds" ... it connects dark matter and parallel universes altogether in this one line. (Remember to pronounce it "His Dark Materyals" to fit Milton's ten-syllable meter.)

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

I rather suspect he'd be a crow. :) I took a couple of the online tests back at the height of popularity, but I've forgotten how they turned out.

I do like the Milton connection, which clearly runs through all three of the novels. I wonder if I would have appreciated them more if I'd first read the whole of Paradise Lost.

[randyhoyt.livejournal.com]

I don't know if reading *Paradise Lost* would have given you a greater appreciation of *His Dark Materials*, at least not as a fan enjoying a work of speculative fiction.

But, as a scholarly person studying myth and speculative fiction, you might find *His Dark Materials* more interesting as an example of a modern re-telling of a myth. When you do read *Paradise Lost*, I would recommend the Oxford World's Classic edition that has an introduction and brief commentary on each book by Philip Pullman. [http://www.amazon.com/dp/019280619X]