01/28/2026
They say that when fleas bite a fox, the fox doesn’t run, scratch, or panic.
She simply walks into the river — slowly, inch by inch.
The fleas climb higher: from the tail, to the back, to the neck, up to the ears.
Until eventually they all gather on the snout — the only part still above water.
And that’s the moment the fox goes under completely.
Calm. Steady. Without complaint.
She simply lets the river wash her clean.
People are not much different.
When life becomes heavy — when losses come, when doors close, when failure hits — many of the people we expected to stay quietly step away. Friends who once promised to be there. Colleagues and companions who laughed with you in brighter days. Sometimes even family chooses distance, as if struggle were contagious.
And then comes that cold loneliness — the kind that feels like winter water.
Aristotle experienced it too. In his hardest season, he found himself without a single friend by his side. Only later did he realize: they were never friends to begin with. They were fleas — feeding on his light as long as it was easy.
So dark seasons aren’t just loss. They are cleansing.
Winter removes the unnecessary.
The river washes away the false.
And even while you shiver, you begin to heal.
Don’t mourn those who left when life grew difficult.
Thank them — because that’s when truth finally showed itself.
Like the fox, one day you’ll step out of the cold water — cleaner, stronger, and real.
✨ Lesson: Hardship doesn’t destroy us. It purifies our lives and leaves only those truly worthy of our trust.
