The Parable of the Pony

Once there was a pony who sat down and wrote a story. He read over the story once, and he liked it, so he sent it out for Equestria to see. Equestria, however, did not like this pony's story very much. Other ponies came upon his work and discredited it as painfully novice. Many spat out poisonous words at him, and others threw themselves upon the story's flaws with glee. A few ponies heard of this commotion and looked into the story deeper. They clearly laid out all that was flawed about the pony's work, and suggested ways that it could be changed. When the pony saw what had become of his story, he was quite heartbroken.

For a long time, the pony thought to himself of what was to be done about his story. He read what others had thought, and he saw their suggestions and pleas that he better his work. Looking further, he saw that there were some voices among the many that said his story was good. After thinking hard about, it the pony decided to cling to those voices that spoke of his work as good, and see only the positives in what he had done. This idea grew ever greater in his mind until the pony decided to believe that he was perfect the way he was. His work did not need improvement, because there were those that had said it was good. He came to believe that his work would never need improvement, and that those who would seek to change it were ignorable.

So this pony continued to write, and he wrote in the same way as he had before. Once again, others rose up against his story, showcasing flaws and formulating ways to change the story into something they defined as better. Instead of returning once again into uncertainty and doubt, the pony looked confidently out to all of the ponies who read his work and told them, "I will not change, and you cannot make me." This pony looked at his own work and he liked it, and he believed that it was perfect the way it was. He continued to publish his writings without change, never seeking to improve himself.

Over time the angry ponies moved on, and all that were left were the now few voices of those who merely supplied him honest criticism. There were those ponies who saw what he published and told him it was good, but their voices still clashed with those who called for an improvement; a change. As time went on and the pony published more stories, those ponies who criticized him were branded cynical, mean spirits, and their voices were buried beneath those who thought his work was good. The pony had come to decide that, like his stories, he was perfect the way he was, so there was no need for change.

The pony never improved in those aspects of his life that he chose to share, and the other ponies that had called for change were buried deeper and deeper until all he could hear was praise. The pony eventually led himself to believe that he and everyone else was happy with his work, for they always told him it was good.

One day, a magically gifted young mare saw the stories of this pony, and what he believed about his work, and she became confused. It seemed to her as if the pony was not denying hateful naysayers but instead denying change, and in the process making a sad mistake that had befallen many who had aspired for praise and fame before him. Though the pony was surrounded by those who spoke of him as good and cheered for him not to change, she could not help put see his work falling into a sorry pattern of monotony. As a scholar and a librarian, she felt that something must be said about his worrying situation. Though she suspected that her voice would only be buried as many others before her had been, she still spoke out.

"If what you are writing is thought of as good, but you say you don't really want to change and improve, aren't you saying that you never want to know what it is like to be great? To wipe your frustration away at the end of a long hard day and know that all of your effort has been placed into a great goal, and realize that what you've done is more than good? Don't you want to be happy in you hard-earned achievements, and not in doing the same thing over and over again? Though it may be what the ponies who are calling out the loudest enjoy, don't you want your work to be appreciated by everypony?"

Her voice too was buried, drowning in a tide of angry supporters who screamed that the pony's work was good and that there would never need to be change. Dismayed only for a short while, the young mare simply moved on; her mind turned to new thoughts and her eyes to greater heights. She worked as hard as she could, striving always for greater and better ideas. Eventually, after many challenging struggles, she achieved the greatness that her friends and mentor believed she could reach. She left those ponies who shouted against change behind her.

As for the pony, he continued to write; receiving the warm praise from his supporters as hungrily as a plant receives sunlight and assuring himself that everyone would always love what he wrote, and that there was no need for change. In his mind there would never be any need for improvement, because he knew he was perfect just the way he was. The only ponies left cried out that he was good, and he was happy with his complacency, never wondering what would have been if he had striven to be not good but great.