2 min read

About These Stories

The Stag, the Wren, the Rat and the River
About These Stories
The Stag, the Wren, the Rat and the River

These stories are written for leaders. But as I shared these stories with my children, my friends, and anyone willing to listen, I realised they are for everyone.

Because we all see ourselves in the Stag. We all hear the Rat's voice. And we're all trying to access the Wren's wisdom.

And in our relentless schedules, we're all searching for stillness—for time by the river where we can actually hear ourselves think.

The Stag is you under pressure—your conscious mind trying to think clearly when everything feels urgent, uncertain, or overwhelming.

The Rat is your nervous system's automatic defence response. Neuroscientists call this the limbic system—the part of your brain that detects threat before you consciously know what's happening. The Rat isn't the enemy. It's trying to keep you safe. But what kept you safe once now keeps you stuck. The Rat moves you away from danger, never toward anything meaningful.

The Wren asks the questions that interrupt the pattern. Simple questions that bring your prefrontal cortex back online, that calm the reactivity, that return you to presence. The Wren doesn't advise, judge, or direct. The Wren questions your beliefs to help you discover what you already know but haven't yet admitted.

The River is what becomes possible when your nervous system is regulated—when threat detection is offline, and you can think clearly, relate authentically, and be present without defending.

This dynamic plays out in all of us, every day. Which voice are we hearing? Which one should we follow?

I've spent years learning to recognise when the Rat has taken over—in my leadership, my marriage, my relationship with grief, having lost my father when I was 16. I realised I'd been listening to the Rat for decades: "Work harder. Hold it together. Don't let them see". The defence was exhausting me more than the work itself.

When my brother died in 2022, I made a different choice. I didn't defend against the grief. I let myself feel it. These stories are what emerged from learning to hear the Wren instead of just the Rat—and what I wish I'd had when I needed them most.

The only way to hear the Wren is through stillness. That means spending time by the river—whatever the river is for you. Your morning meditation. A device-free walk. Stretching in nature. Or an actual river near you.

I share short stories, weekly, sometimes daily, as they arrive. Each one follows the same pattern: the Stag speaks his frustration, the Rat responds with protection, the Wren asks a question, and the River shows what's possible when defence relaxes.

They're written in simple language because the patterns are universal. A fourteen-year-old feels the same fear of failure as a CEO. The context changes. The defence doesn't.

Read one when you recognise yourself in the Stag. Read one when the Rat is shouting. Read one when you need reminding that there's another way.

Then find your place by the river. Get still. And listen for the Wren.

I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Thank you.

Andrew


"Why do I get angry with them?" said the Stag
"Because they don't respect you," said the Rat
"Do you respect them?" said the Wren

The River flowed