tadpoles

“We’re writing about frogs today?” The Muse of Many Questions wrinkled her nose. “What on earth do we have to say about tadpoles?”

“Oh! The amphibian picture was a gift from above… we’ll tie it in before today’s writing is finished.” Thalia clapped her hands with glee. The Muse of Wit was delighted by the fortunate proximity of a tadpole life stage photo on the page adjacent to the word she sought in Webster’s Ninth Collegiate Edition. “Tacit! Expressed or carried on without words or speech. Or, implied or indicated but not actually expressed.”

“And?” Cal pressed. “What about it?”

Urania entered the room holding her color-coded day planner. “What’s up with the the grainy swimmers?”

Thalia cleared her throat. “I have a question to share with our readers that was brought to Typist’s attention yesterday. For the last twenty hours or so, she and I have been bouncing it over a net like a beach ball.”

“Well… Get on with it. We have an eight o’clock.” Urania tapped her pencil on the table.

“Okay, okay… Please remember that kindness is always in vogue, would you?” Thalia read from a turquoise Post-It. “Are any of your tacit agreements keeping you from growing? Are you stuck in a tadpole stage when you could be moving towards becoming a frog?” Tal clapped her hands again. “See how fortuitous that picture is now?”

“So… tacit agreements. Could they also be called habits?” asked Cal.

“Yes… habits, that’s it exactly. What habits are we holding onto out of comfort… when trying something new… will help us hop? Leap frog even!”