There once was a lion who we will call Christian. At one time it’s face was set as steal. Nothing could faze it. It minded it’s own business, and did it’s thing and attracted millions. It didn’t have to put on a show, didn’t have to have lights, fancy music, or business plan to make it.
It was somewhat tattered looking, dusty and dirty from real work. Scarred with wounds it had received through time.
It didn’t listen to outside voices, it knew its purpose and nothing could shake it.
It didn’t point the finger, it stayed true to who it was in silence. There was no need for shaming, no need for blaming, no need for calling people out.
This lion was revered. Simply because of its actions, its every day life, nothing else.
But somewhere along the line this lion starting becoming more concerned with what others thought of it than who it was. It started thinking it needed to groom itself more, look prettier, smell nicer, and speak vehemently out about things it disagreed with.
Soon the lion became someone entirely different, it lost respect in its attempt to please, and it lost sight of who it was. It looked better, sounded better, and could draw a crowd, but it no longer was who it was born to be. But still, buried somewhere underneath the layers, the true lion lurks, and maybe one day we will see it again.