 Hey Henry, what should I make my video about tomorrow? Alright, good morning Hank, it's Tuesday, so I've been listening a lot to this podcast Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, in which two scholars of religion read Harry Potter as a sacred text. Regardless of how you feel about religion or Harry Potter, this podcast is just brilliant. Actually, I guess it does help to be interested in Harry Potter. I've always thought those books lend themselves to critical reading, but until listening to this podcast, I had no idea how deep they could be. So I really believe, as I wrote in Turtles all the way down, that beauty is mostly a matter of attention. Like what you love matters, but how you love it matters so much more. And listening to Harry Potter and the Sacred Text has reminded me that paying sustained careful attention to almost anything can be tremendously rewarding. So okay, let's try it with the red-eyed tree frog, which is a tree-dwelling two-inch-long frog with about a five-year lifespan that's native to Central America and southern Mexico. We eat mostly insects and are eaten by a wide variety of animals, including snakes, owls, bats, and sometimes alligators. So there are two things I find really fascinating about red-eyed tree frogs. First, they close their eyes when eating, because the retraction of their eyes helps them to push food down their throats. Basically, they use their eyes to help them eat, which is a nice reminder of just how cobbled together life is. We're all working within the confines of our physiology to muddle through, whether that means briefly rendering ourselves blind in order to aid in digestion or using exposure therapy to retrain an overly active fight-or-flight response. The other thing I find fascinating about red-eyed tree frogs is, of course, the fact that they are super weird-looking and have huge red eyes. Like, their scientific name comes from Greek words meaning beautiful tree nymph, but I would describe them more as bug-eyed frog demons. Experts disagree about the point of their unusual coloration, but we know that during the day, red-eyed tree frogs mostly sit on leaves with their eyes closed and their blue-striped legs tucked underneath them, fairly close to perfect camouflage. And then if they sense a predator, their red eyes flash open and they stare at the predator before trying to jump away. Now, it may be that this response is designed to startle predators. God knows it would scare me. But the red eyes might also be about something else. Like, if the last thing a predator sees before eating you or failing to eat you because you jumped away are red eyes and blue stripes, the next time it's looking for you, or for a frog like you, it's gonna look for that bright contrast of red eyes and blue stripes, not for a well-camouflaged green lump. So what makes the red-eyed tree frog stand out is also what makes it hard to find. And that seems to me resonant with so much of human life. Like, for instance, I am attracted to information that is novel and surprising even though that kind of information is often not the most useful or accurate. Or when looking for inspiration, I often expect thunderclaps or epiphanies or blinding light awakenings when, in truth, the insight or comfort I need is often subtler and comes from looking closely and quietly. Like any predator, I listen to what is loud and look at what is bright and that can make it easy to distract me or mislead me. In short, if you're only looking for red eyes, you'll usually miss the red-eyed tree frog. Hank, I'll see you on Friday. PS, if you're interested in this kind of thing, it's how I'm trying to look at the world in my new podcast, The Anthropocene Reviewed. There's a new episode out on Thursday. You can find out more in the doobly-doo below where you can also find out more about Harry Potter and the sacred text, which is so, so good.