The Tail Between Your Legs

The room was warm, lit by the soft glow of a fireplace. Five friends sat scattered on mismatched chairs and cushions, their conversation weaving between laughter, debate, and quiet reflection. The mood was light until he came back.

Bursting through the door, Nathan announced, “I’ve got it! I know exactly how this is all going to work out!” His voice was filled with that rare mix of determination and desperation — an energy that everyone could feel.

The group turned to him. Some raised their eyebrows; others exchanged glances. They’d seen this before.

Nathan continued, pacing now. “All I have to do is push a bit harder, make the right calls, and — ”

“ — and then the universe will bow to your demands?” interrupted Micah, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of snacks. He smiled, his tone half-teasing, half-serious.

Nathan stopped mid-sentence. “No, but — ”

“Come here,” Micah said, gesturing for Nathan to sit. “Put your tail between your legs like the rest of us slaves.”

Laughter erupted around the room, except for Nathan, who stood frozen, caught between confusion and irritation.

“What are you even talking about?” Nathan demanded.

Micah leaned back against the wall, grinning. “You’re trying to control what you can’t even see. You’re acting like the world will fall in line just because you’ve decided how it should go. But here’s the thing, man: you can’t even tell what’s behind this wall.” He gestured to the brick wall separating the room from the outside world.

The others nodded, stifling their smiles, as Micah went on. “You’re acting like you built this place. Like you made the ground, the trees, the air you’re breathing right now. Did you plant the seeds that grew into entire forests? Did you carve out the oceans, or decide how they’d stay filled? Were you out here with buckets from the sky? You can’t even see what’s happening inside your own body at this moment, let alone under the soil or what’s behind you. Did you create yourself? No? Then sit your ambitious self down and relax.”

Nathan opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, Sarah, perched on the arm of a couch, joined in. “Yeah, Nathan. Imagine walking into someone else’s house and telling them what to eat, what to drink, and how to live. That’s exactly what you’re doing here — thinking you can control things when you’re just a guest like the rest of us.”

The room went quiet for a moment. Nathan’s shoulders slumped. He looked at the floor, then back at his friends, and slowly walked over to sit next to Micah.

Micah put an arm around his shoulder. “See? Now you’re getting it. Look, Nathan, you’ve gotta focus on the lane you’re in. Look as far as your clarity allows, and anything beyond that? Not your business. Leave it to the one who made all this stuff we found here. Just stay open, stay willing, and you’ll be fine.”

Nathan sighed, a faint smile creeping onto his face. “You make it sound so easy.”

Micah laughed, patting him on the back. “It’s not. But it’s a hell of a lot easier than fighting a battle you were never meant to win.”