Why I Let Elephants Fly Now?
I once came across a simple story. It was short. Simple. Easy to ignore. But it stayed with me through conversations, through conflicts, through quiet moments with myself.
I didn’t realize that the story would go on to change the way I think, the way I respond, and the way I choose my peace.
The Story: The Lion, the Donkey, and the King
A donkey once said, “Grass is blue.”
A lion laughed. “Grass is green.”
What began as a simple disagreement soon turned into an argument, loud, stubborn, endless.
Unable to resolve it, they went to the king.
The donkey spoke first, confidently:
“Your Majesty, grass is blue.”
The king nodded. “Yes, grass is blue.”
The lion stepped forward, shocked.
“But Your Majesty, grass is green!”
The king ordered that the lion be punished.
As guards led him away, the lion asked,
“Why am I being punished for telling the truth?”
The king replied calmly:
“You are not being punished because you are wrong.
You are being punished because you wasted your time arguing with a donkey.”
The Insight:
There was a time when I believed I was the lion, not in pride but in purpose.
I thought if I saw something clearly, it was my responsibility to help others see it too.
If someone was wrong, I corrected them.
If something didn’t make sense, I questioned it.
If confusion appeared, I tried to bring clarity.
If someone said something illogical, I corrected it.
If someone held a flawed belief, I challenged it.
If misinformation appeared, I stepped in.
I assumed truth, once shown, would be welcomed. I thought people wanted to understand.
I was wrong.
The Realization:
Over time, I started noticing something unsettling. People weren’t resisting facts. They were resisting discomfort.
Their beliefs weren’t built on logic. They were built on identity borrowed from family, society, education, religion, or instigated by fear.
When you correct such a person, you are not addressing an idea. You are threatening their identity.
So they didn’t listen. They defended. And suddenly, every conversation became a battlefield not for truth, but for validation.
That’s when arguments begin. Not to understand, but to defend. Slowly, correcting people stopped feeling noble.
The Quiet Exhaustion
At first, I tried harder. I explained better. I argued smarter. I brought more examples, more logic, more patience. But nothing changed. It started feeling like pouring water into a leaking bucket.
And slowly, something inside me began to tire.
Just… exhaustion.
The Moment Everything Changed
One day, in the middle of yet another pointless argument, I felt something unusual. I didn’t feel the need to respond and the urge to prove anything.
I just… stopped.
And for the first time, I understood the king.
Let Them Fly
Now, when someone says something absurd with complete confidence,
I don’t react the way I used to.
I don’t correct.
I don’t challenge.
I don’t engage.
I simply smile and say “Yes.”
If they are like,
Elephants can fly – YES
Earth is flat – YES
If I feel it, it must be real – YES
God Exists – YES
Not because I believe any of it.
Elephants can fly. Not because I believe it. But because I finally understand that some conversations are not meant to reach truth. They are meant to protect illusion. And I no longer feel the need to tear those illusions down.
What Changed in Me
This is not silence born from weakness. It is silence born from clarity.
I’ve learned that:
Not every mind is open.
Not every conversation is worth having.
Not every truth needs to be spoken.
Some people don’t want truth. They want agreement. So I give them what they want and take my peace with me.
And sometimes, giving them that is not defeat it is freedom from their stupidity.
Because correcting beliefs built on comfort, fear, or inheritance is like teaching physics to a horoscope.
The Ending That Isn’t an Ending
I didn’t change the world. I didn’t fix people. I didn’t win arguments. I just stopped fighting battles that were never meant to be won. And in doing so, I found something I didn’t even know I had lost – Peace.
So Yes…
So yes, elephants can fly. And I finally learned when to let them.
Peace is found in knowing when to stop speaking and start walking your own path.
Always remember, Peace is more important than being right
