Frogs and Fretting

It was already a strange day. I went about my late morning uncomfortably and suddenly felt... well, weird. My guess, now that the day is gone, is that I'm feeling yet another wintry low pressure system coming through the area. I rearranged my plans to take advantage of my day off to regroup and work through the odd feeling.

While I was trying to be quiet and rest, an old Muppet movie lodged its songs in my head. I have not thought about nor seen Jim Henson's The Frog Prince in ages. The sounds of Kermit and the frog choir bring me back to weekends with my sisters... memorizing songs together and playing out our own fairy tale theatricals...

...but, it's not my sisters that seemed to correspond to my weirdness today.

I looked up the movie on YouTube (you can watch this short film in five parts online). As I reviewed the scenes and heard the songs, I thought about how the protagonists are bound together by a need to be taken seriously. The Frog Prince, played by Kermit's nephew, Robin, has some trouble convincing the other frogs that he's not a frog at all, but rather a prince with a spell cast over him. The Princess, Melora, was cursed by the same witch, only her spell caused an odd speech impediment. No one can understand her backwards talk. What causes the frog and the princess to feel such affection for one another is the fact that they are the only ones who try to see the truth in the their stories. Kermit doesn't believe Robin is a prince until he sees the witch taunt Robin, threatening to make him her ogre's breakfast. Princess Melora feels all her talk is in vain until this little frog demonstrates that he can unwind her awkward language and understand what she's saying. While the princess is skeptical, she trusts her new frog pal, and tries to help him out.

So, why on earth is this silly story stuck in my head?

I've recently been met with unexpected cynicism concerning my decision to become a vegetarian. I've watched eyebrows raise with concern and jaws drop. The most FAQs of late include, "What do you eat?" "You don't even eat fish?" "Don't you think maybe your sources are brainwash?" and "Why are you being so difficult?"

I'm having trouble not answering these questions with some resentment. When asked, "What do you eat?" I want to huff at the common ignorance that if there's not a hunk of steak on your plate, then all you have for dinner are potatoes and green salad. My pen pal once told me about people asking her this question. Before I make my own answer, I try to remember her beautiful, youthful face when she told me she answers, "Well, everything else! There's so much I love to eat!" She takes these things in her stride better than I can at the moment (though I've only been a vegetarian for, what, three weeks now?).

I don't understand the fish question... I mean, I have enjoyed fish in the past, but I have issues with how we over-fish, so I'm choosing to refrain from that form of meat as well. I don't appreciate being made to feel like I'm crazy for making, what I consider to be, a moral decision... especially when I'm not audacious enough to be the evangelical form of vegetarian. I've not attempted something as ridiculous as convincing my family and friends to make the same choice I have. It's not my place. This is what I feel is best for me... so why am I met with these cockeyed glares that adults tend to give seven year old children who think they're SuperMan?

And why assume that I'm making an uninformed decision? That I'm not mature enough to filter through my sources and pull out what makes sense to me? I wanted to cry when I was told that my information was mere "brainwash" by someone who I thought saw me as an adult who can make her own sound choices. As I've mentioned in earlier entries, I've considered my position on food and animal cruelty for some time... it took more and more information and a very personal epiphany before I made my decision. I'm not a high school teeny-bopper who met a weird bald man and decided she just had to drink the KoolAid under a passing comet. Not to mention, people who approach me with this attitude tend not to have sources of their own to counter any of my arguments. I welcome a discussion with anyone who has more information than I do (and I'm positive those people are out there and have something to offer to this topic), but this lashing cynicism, this feeling that I'm "being difficult," is thoughtless and needlessly hurtful.

It meant so much for Princess Melora to be taken seriously- that this little frog took out the time to listen and move her consonants around to understand her words. I don't care so much if strangers want to call me a "hippie" or judge my decisions... but I would hope those closer to me would try to unravel whatever it is I'm saying that's hard to understand and make some sense of it with some research, some imagination, and some faith in me.

I can't help but wonder if I've done this to someone. Even if I've alienated a perfect stranger, I can't begin to explain my guilt for causing someone to feel that he or she is "crazy" for being passionate about something good (I'm not talking about menaces to society who are passionate about killing people or destroying personal property... I speak of environmentalists, animal rights activists, equal opportunity fighters in the workplace, etc). As I've discussed with some bright women, there is a general understanding in Native American culture that, if someone sees a ghost, rather than call that person crazy, you help him or her work through the experience. It was real to that person, so treat him or her with respect and allow for the possibilities.

I was quite unprepared for this challenge, but I feel lucky to be close to some vegetarians who might be able to guide me through these early stages of allowing people to get used to the idea that I've made a change. In the meantime, I'll be minding how I view my loved ones' experiences that are not included in my realm of reality and try to understand rather than cast spells of discontent. I'll aim to be like my frog friend and see things from the bottom of the well and all the way into the palace...

(from www.surlalunefairytales.com)