Of scorpions and snakes

Let me tell you a story. It’s not one of those cute fairy tales where everyone lives happily ever after. This one ends wet, stung and slightly dead.

I first featured this story in my four-volume book set “One Day at a Time.” And now that I am reissuing an updated version of the same book set that was first released some twenty-plus years ago, I am reminded of this story and would like to share it with you.

A scorpion once asked a frog for a favor.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, “Mind giving me a lift across this pond? I’ll hop on your back, and we’ll both get to the other side.”

The frog looked at him, head tilted like a confused emoji.

“Are you serious? You’re a scorpion. You sting things. That’s your thing! What if you sting me halfway across and we both drown?”

The scorpion, clearly offended, said, “Why would I do that? That’s completely illogical. If I sting you, we both die. No one benefits. Your fear is irrational.”

The frog, clearly a believer in logic and second chances, said, “Fair enough. Climb on.”

And so they sailed. Right up until the scorpion, midway across the pond, did precisely what the frog feared: he stung him.

As they began to sink, the frog, struggling to breathe and reason simultaneously, gasped, “But… you said… it didn’t make sense!”

To which the scorpion calmly replied: “I know. But I’m a scorpion. This isn’t about logic. This is about nature.”

Moral of the story? Don’t argue character with logic. You’ll end up wet, betrayed and wondering why you didn’t just swim alone.

Now, let me take you to the forest. A man is walking along a peaceful path when a snake jumps out and bites him for no reason at all – not even a hiss or a warning.

Ouch. But hey, the man’s close to the village. The bite is painful, but survivable. All he has to do is turn around, limp home and get treatment.

But no. He says, “How dare that snake bite me! I’m going after that slippery sucker.”

Fueled by adrenaline and righteous indignation, he charges down the path, determined to make the snake pay. But the more he runs, the faster the venom spreads.

Here is a spoiler alert: He dies, not from the bite, but from the chase. This phenomenon is known as the snake-chasing effect, and most of us are guilty of it.

There are two stories and two lessons.

Lesson one: Stop trusting scorpions to act like frogs.

Some people don’t respond to logic, kindness or even consequences. They don’t need a reason to sting; they do it because it’s who they are.

You lend them money, and they disappear. You give them your trust, and they gossip. You promote them, and they sabotage you.

And then they say things like: “Sorry! I’m just being real.”

No, you’re just being a scorpion. Here’s the truth: Character is not negotiable. If someone has shown you their nature more than once, believe them. Don’t carry them across the pond and then act shocked when you start sinking.

Lesson two: Stop chasing snakes.

Let’s face it – we’ve all been bitten. Someone lied. Someone cheated. Someone took credit for your hard work and got promoted while you were left clapping in the back row. And we fume.

“I’ll make sure they get what’s coming.”

“They messed with the wrong person.”

So we obsess. Plot. Replay the offense as if it were our favorite movie.

Meanwhile, the venom spreads. That’s when the real damage happens — not from the original wound, but from your refusal to walk away and heal.

Revenge feels good for about five minutes. Then it leaves you emotionally bankrupt and more exhausted than the people you were trying to get even with.

Nelson Mandela said, “Resentment is like drinking poison and hoping it will kill your enemy.”

Chasing the snake might feel brave, but it’s actually foolish.

So what do we do? You protect your peace.

You get better at recognizing scorpions. You learn that walking away isn’t a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of wisdom. You remind yourself that the greatest revenge is not revenge at all, but success, peace and a good night’s sleep.

In our unguarded moments, we may have been stung, bitten and taken advantage of. What would you and I do?

You take care of your wounds. You walk back to your village. You live.

Because at the end of the day, life is hard enough without scorpions on your back and venom in your veins.

So here’s my advice: Don’t carry what will sink you. Don’t chase what already bit you. And for heaven’s sake, the next time someone with a stinger says, “Trust me,” swim away.

Francis Kong’s podcast “Inspiring Excellence” is now available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, or other podcast streaming platforms. Tune in to his new YouTube and podcast channel Kongversations – where sharp minds meet smart talk, one meaningful conversation at a time.