The Rut (Story That Transitions Into A Guided Practice)

Once upon a time,

There was a little frog.

He was born with most beautiful green skin you've ever seen.

It even glowed.

He was a happy little frog,

Just living today.

Indeed,

He loved to hop.

And he hopped here,

And he hopped there.

My,

How he enjoyed his world.

Paddling a little pond in which he lived,

Just his size,

He could feel the cool water on his wonderful long legs.

He loved to sink deep into that lovely water,

Until just his gorgeous froggy eyes could see everything around him.

He could stick out his tongue and have a little insect for lunch.

Yummy,

In his little tummy.

And he loved to hop.

And he hopped here,

And he hopped there.

He could smell the metal flowers and see their vibrant colors.

He could see the azure blue of the sky,

With wonderful floating fluffy clouds.

He could feel the warmth of the sun on his beautiful green skin.

And he could see it all reflected in his little pond.

He could see and hear the birds above him,

And loved it when they landed on the limbs of the trees to sing their song.

He loved to croak the bass to their melody.

One day,

He was hopping in a place where he'd never hopped before,

And he saw something unusual,

Something he'd never seen before.

It seemed to be an old wagon road with very deep ruts.

And he leaned way over to see the bottom of that very deep rut.

How curious,

He thought.

And then,

Unexpectedly,

The ground gave way beneath him,

And he tumbled right in that very deep rut.

And at first,

He was a little bit frightened,

But he knew that he could hop right out.

He was the best hopper ever.

And so he gave a great big lunge,

But he did not hop out.

He fell right back into that very deep rut.

And then he tried again,

Put more strength into it,

With his very long legs.

And still,

Fell right back into that very deep rut.

And now,

He starts getting worried.

He thinks,

I can hop right out.

I know I can.

I always have.

But he tries,

And he tries,

And he tries.

And he gets very exhausted and very weary.

And then he begins to think,

I will never get out.

I've tried and tried,

And the truth is,

No matter how hard I try,

I can't get out.

And with a big sigh,

He thinks,

I might as well be satisfied here.

I can't get out.

I can still get a few insects.

There is no pond,

But there is a little bit of mud.

And as a few froggy tears drop down his face,

He feels sad.

But he thinks,

It will have to be okay.

And so he gave up trying to hop out,

Because he now believed that he couldn't.

And he thought he'd make the best of things.

He could still see a little slice of the sky,

And occasionally a white cloud.

He couldn't see the trees,

But he could hear the rustling of the leaves.

He couldn't see the flowers,

But if he tried really hard,

He could smell their fragrance.

Oh my,

How he missed the cold water of his pond,

And being able to look out of it with his wonderful big froggy eyes.

He was sad about many things,

Especially about the past.

But he thought that he would have to do the best he could,

And be satisfied in his rut.

And so he was.

Well,

As much as he thought he could be.

And then one day,

The earth started to tremble.

He wondered what was happening,

And he thought,

Is it an earthquake?

And then he worried,

What if the rut fell in on top of him?

What would he do?

He might die.

Oh no.

And then the sound,

And the trembling came closer.

And he looked further down the rut,

And could see a great big wagon coming,

Very fast.

And he immediately thought,

Oh no,

I will get squished.

And then,

Without thinking,

He jumped right out.

And always,

With a bedtime story,

There is a moral to the story.

And it is maybe many things.

In the beginning,

He was being himself.

Hopping here,

Hopping there.

Simply enjoying life in the present moment.

He wasn't thinking much.

Just enjoying life.

And then he fell in the rut,

And thought he could get out.

But when he tried,

He couldn't.

And the more he tried,

The more desperate he got.

And then he thought,

And believed,

I will never get out.

I'll just have to make the best of it.

And what he experienced was loss,

And less.

Because he lived in a rut.

He was sad,

And depressed.

Didn't think he could get out.

Didn't believe he could get out.

So just made the best of it.

But then,

When he saw that great big wagon coming,

He'd already come to believe that he couldn't get out.

He believed he would be squished.

And then,

He just jumped right out.

Without thinking.

So when he was in the rut,

He was thinking about the past,

And all the times he tried to get out,

Imagining a very fearful future.

It would be the same or worse.

The moment he jumped out,

He was in the present moment.

Perhaps,

You will one day find yourself in a rut.

And you might think you can't get out.

But perhaps that is not so.

Perhaps you can let go of the thinking about the past and the future.

Maybe you can do more than you think you can.

I invite you to ponder this little story,

And see if it has any value for you.

I invite you to live right now.

Good,

Sweet child.

For the next few moments,

I invite you,

If you like,

To simply follow my voice.

Simply scan your body for tension,

Pain,

Strain,

Or stress.

From the top of your head to the bottom of your feet.

That tension and stress is nothing but the past and future fear.

It is the rut.

It is illusion.

It is the same old thoughts and memories over and over again.

I can't do this.

It's too hard.

I try and try and try,

And it never works.

It's useless.

And the more I think about it,

The worse it gets.

And I know it will be the same tomorrow as well.

The rut of negative thinking and future fear.

It is a state of lack,

A state of less,

A state of fear.

I invite you to take a wonderful deep breath of healing light.

Perhaps it has a color.

Whatever color comes is the right one for you right now.

Simply gather up all the tension,

Pain,

Strain,

And stress.

From the head,

Heart,

Lungs,

Shoulders,

Back,

Legs,

Or wherever it is.

And turn it into warm smoke.

That's all it is.

Just smoke and illusion.

And as you exhale,

Let that warm smoke simply flow down your head,

Chest,

And stomach.

Abdomen,

Legs and feet,

And out into the universe.

It is only the past and future fear.

Nothing but illusion.

The past is over,

It is finished.

And the future never comes.

That is tomorrow.

And tomorrow never comes.

It is always today.

So just have a few insects,

My sweet child.

Smell the flowers,

Hop in the pond,

And enjoy this beautiful now.

And so it is.

Thank you.