For a long time after I started working, I just couldn’t seem to find any joy. At first, I blamed it on still being in student mode. I figured I hadn’t truly adapted to the pace of the working world yet. So I kept making excuses for myself. I told myself that if I just gave it a little more time, everything would gradually get better.
But that didn’t happen. Days went by, and the ease and joy I’d hoped for never showed up. That got me thinking. Where was the problem, really? Then I kept seeing people recommend Counselling for Toads – A Psychological Adventure everywhere. It felt like some weird force was pushing me toward it. So one afternoon, I sat down and read the whole thing.
I have to admit something. When I first bought this book, I had a clear expectation. Just like Mr. Toad in the story, I wanted answers. I wanted to know, “What do I do?” To put it bluntly, my mindset was, “Heron, just tell me what to do! What do I need to do to get rid of this unhappiness? Give me the answer, help me escape this lousy state, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
But Heron didn’t give any ready-made conclusions. Instead, he kept asking questions, some of them maybe impossible to answer. Poor Toad was completely lost. He had to sit and think for a long time. And honestly, as a reader, I was just as lost. I still wanted a real, testable answer. But as I got deeper into the book, I slowly calmed down. I started following the book’s rhythm and tried to understand what those questions really meant. That’s when I realized something. The therapist’s job wasn’t to hand out answers. It was to help Toad figure them out on his own. As the book says, no one can force you to feel anything. The outside world can influence you, sure. But at the end of the day, the choice of how you feel is yours.
That’s when it hit me. My reason for reading this book was wrong from the start. I expected Counselling for Toads – A Psychological Adventure to act like a parent. Tell me what to do. Make judgments for me. But the book isn’t like that at all. It’s more like a mirror. It helps you see your own patterns clearly. It helps you understand where your emotions come from. And eventually, it lets you experience something deeper: accepting yourself, respecting differences, and accepting others without losing yourself.
After I finished the book, I felt like I’d gained a lot. I started looking at myself with a calmer eye. Looking back at past experiences, I could finally understand those feelings that used to bother me. It turns out that weird anxiety I’d had for years? That was just a reflection of my parents’ stern looks when I was a kid. And those so-called “personality flaws”? Those were actually badges of honor. They were my own self-protection mechanisms, keeping me safe. The good news is, I realized something. As I got older and lived through more things, even before reading this book, I had already started spending more time in an “adult self state.” That just means seeing others and acting in a more rational, objective way. And when Toad finally rowed his boat upstream against the current, I heard the ice in my heart crack. Real growth is learning to steer your own course when the storm hits.
If you’re stuck right now. If you’re self-sabotaging, trapped by your family, caring way too much about what others think, or struggling with low self-worth. Then maybe give this book a shot. I hope Mr. Toad’s journey helps you find the strength to heal yourself. And through understanding, I hope you can finally make peace with yourself.