Passing Through the Wind in the Willows

Well Mr Toad! I hope you are happy.  I cannot sleep because the Sun is shining in my eyes through this gaping hole in my home!  Yet I cannot truely be mad either for I dearly love the Sun.

I do not think I really understood about the Sun, until I met you.  Sure, I dimly percieved the changing of the seasons, burried in my lonely sanctuary.  Sure, I understood that some force called the Sun drove such changes, that from His tender affections Mother Nature bore life.  I could feel that life stir as the walls unfroze and the roots above my headed needed constrant triming, but I was blind.

Then you came and broke down the door to my room.  Sure the time had come; I would have gone out eventually.  I know myself.  I am no mole content to pass all his life in his little hole.  But I could be, and that scares me.  In the past I had tried to venture out of my hole, to change my life, but always found myself having gone there and back again: a small adventure with little lasting results.  Still, Mr. Toad, you didn't have to be the one to break my door;  I may even have done it myself.  But you did, and without even meaning to.

Now, at this moment, I can feel the Sun on my face.  I can smell the spring flowers growing under His Warmth.  And how warm He is!  My tiny little hearth is shamed by the fire of His Presence.  At times I fear He is too much, searing my skin with His Rays, tearing my eyes with His Glare.  And yet love it.  

For without his warmth I would not have the courage to explore this world.  And, as I Abide by His Light, I, like the trees and tender plants around me, can grow upward and outward. 

O Abider, I call on Thee, O Abider!

Thou the Ever-Abiding, O Thou Abiding One!

Perhaps someday I, having tempered my courage against the tides of time, will join you in Toad Hall and we can spend out our days having grand adventures together.  Perhaps you will have gone, having spent away the Hall on some grand adventure.  Then I will have no choice but to pass from this land, like the wind passing through the willows.  Haply our paths may cross and we may adventure again.

The Irrepresible Mr Toad

Bahh! 

I feel like the Mole in that children's story, happy and content in his hole until some crazy TOAD comes along and crashes through his front door with a fancy-schmancy death trap called an automobile!  O sure I would love to pretend the whole thing never happened!  But now I know there is a whole world above my roof!  And a maniac hell bent on stirring up more trouble than you have a right to!  Well Mr Toad, this Mole is not going to stop until I am good are ready!

Your comments yesterday have perplexed me-- mind you, it's not because I'm trying to understand you but rather because I'm trying to understand myself.  You are one of the most responsible people I have ever met, and yet you seem hell bound not to think of yourself thus. You are a wild and free spirit, but that only means you're all the more responsible.  Still, that's not what this is about.  It's about why I, who have felt the desire, or at least pressure, to be responsible my whole life, when faced with responsibility flee from it; it's about why I, when faced with the possibility of attaining the things I want most, that which I consider true success, I decide to head for the mole hills.

I don't think I'm making mountains out of those hills either.  I just think it's time for this behavior to stop.  Sure it could continue; it wouldn't be the end of the world.  I could live a very comfortable and--dare I say it-- successful life in my mole hole.  Many people do.  But what kind of story would it be if in the beginning of the book Mole went back into his hole?

see, now I think I understand why you don't keep regular pen pals.  One conversation with you tears away veils I would prefer not to know I had.  My mind is locked on this problem now like a vice; I cannot escape its grip.  This is always the case when I ride in your automobile Mr Toad!  

BAHHH!