Standing tall often conjures images of strength: a solid, statuesque figure with a steely gaze is easy to look up to. And yet, locking your knees risks fainting: the vital juices stop circulating. Yet, the opposing view is equally ridiculous: what paranoid leader whips their eyes side to side, always ready to pounce or dodge, or is continually squatting and stretching to stay vitally attuned?
Similarly, stone and steel shatter due to their rigidity, but we seldom comment on bamboo and wood rotting due to their porosity. The willow sways in gale-force winds, but no one builds lasting structures from it.
The weakness of metaphor is its quick collapse when extended further, or opposed. Then we see it is only a tool of platitudes, a means to grasp a limited perspective, without direct speaking: a softer, narrative means to invoke imaginative correlation that must be conceptually, abstractly absorbed.