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A long while ago, at a pond in a large trapezium-shaped park in a great, populated city on an island in Asia, there was a lily pad. And on that lily pad, a frog named Qingwa was trying to meditate, just as he did every morning.

Qingwa didn’t mind the bustle of the city, nor the people who gathered at the pond and shouted and pointed at the turtles lazing in the sun, nor the low rumble of traffic: it was easy to clear his mind of such things and bring his focus to his breath.

But that day in particular Qingwa found his mind wandering. The voices of the people feverishly gathered around the pond to admire turtles bore into his brain, the smell and sound of traffic grated against his concentration, and his rumbling stomach drilled into him until he could think of nothing else.

Annoyed, Qingwa opened his eyes to survey the pond. The turtles basking in the sun regarded him with sleepy, half-open eyes, but he knew better than to get too close to them unless they called out to him, first. Below him in the water an occasional fish would flit past, and even more occasionally another frog would swim by under the surface, coming up for air or to nab a skating water strider.

“Hi, Qingwa,” one such frog, Shufen, said as she broke the surface. “What are you doing?”

“Meditating, or trying to,” said Qingwa. “But my stomach is rumbling, and I’m finding it hard to ignore.”

“Oh, that’s tough. Why don’t you hunt for breakfast? Lots of water bugs out today, and some good worms in the soil by the silvergrass.”

Qingwa gave a little shake. “No can do, I’m afraid. I don’t eat insects.”

Shufen did a little flip on her back and kicked her legs out, shooting away from the lily pad before swimming back over. “That’s silly! All frogs eat insects.”

“Not me,” said Qingwa. “They’re living beings! I couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“That’s weird,” said Shufen. To demonstrate her point she dived again, resurfacing a few lengths away to capture a dragonfly that was flying close to the surface of the water. “What do you eat, then?”

“Oh, this and that. Though lately I’ve mostly been eating algae with the tadpoles.”

“You’re very odd, Qingwa. But I hope you can find a way to meditate!” Shufen gave him one last, long stare, before she dove under the surface and swam away.

Alone again, Qingwa tried once more to focus his energy and complete his meditation. He tried to visualize a clear, still pool of water, but the image was clouded by thoughts of food and the sounds of milling people. Counting his breaths was interrupted by his growling stomach. Trying to clear his mind completely only seemed to drive his thoughts to be more urgent.

“Hey, Qingwa!” a voice called, just as the frog was beginning to think his daily exercise useless. A bit away from him a turtle was sitting on a little mound of dry land that rose out of the water. “Whatcha doing?”

“Hi Laogui! I’m trying to meditate!” Qingwa called to the turtle. “But I’m afraid I’m just too hungry today. I’ll have to find some food to eat.”

“Well do you want some of my sedge? Or some water hyacinth?”

“I’d love some, but I’m afraid I’ve got no teeth to chew with.”

“That’s no worries,” said Laogui. “I can chew them for you!”

Qingwa jumped from his pad and swam over to Laogui, who tore a few stalks of sedge from his bundle and worked them in his jaw, setting the resulting mush down on the ground for Qingwa to pick at.

His stomach happy, Qingwa thanked Laogui for his help and swam back to the pad. Letting out a satisfied exhale, the frog closed his eyes, cleared his thoughts, and found his way to mindfulness at last.

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