Signs to learn from Mo, part III

You know those days? Those days where you have to make the decision, is the glass half full, or half empty?

Mo showed me today that sometimes, the decision isn't yours.

Like when your roommate forgets she is in the middle of changing your water, for example.

The glass--er, tank-- IS half empty. You have reached your proverbial ceiling. You shall not pass.

Someone up there--er, out there-- has it in for you.

Sometimes it is intentional, sometimes it is benign neglect.

Mo offered several options for coping with a forced half-empty situation. You can always take a nap. You can hide in the foliage. You can blow bubbles until someone notices you.

But that's not what Mo did. He kept swimming upward. He never stopped testing his limits.

Swim to the top, because one day that ceiling will not be there. Be ready to soar--er, swim-- beyond.

Signs to learn from Mo, part II

I just wanted to get a picture of my fish all flared up, the way betta fish do when they are defensive of their territory. (And yes, it makes me giggle to think of a tiny fish being territorial. What's the worst he's going to do-blow bubbles?)

Mid-snapshot, a message flowed through the water to my mind. And Mo looked at me knowingly.

Get out of your own way, the message said. Here was my fish, flaring to defend his home from some terrible unknown enemy, when really it was only himself. He had archers ready, sharks on-call, and a willingness to fight to the last breath-if need be- all against himself.

And it would be so easy to just laugh lightly at him, and say silly fish. He is just a silly red fish. I am a smart human. I see what you are doing and laugh because I would never do such a thing. I am human. I have thumbs. Plus I feed you.

And yet, how often have we over thought something, second guessed an answer, or logically skewed a point of view to better fit ourselves? All the time. He's not calling me not because he is busy, but because you are loud and odd and ought to tone it down. I'm pretty sure it's A, but then again I have been facing some rotten luck -entirely my fault I'm sure- so I'm going to guess B. I need this job because it is critical to my formation of character, despite the fact that the travel expense for this job almost costs me the entirety of my paycheck, and compromises my health.

All these words, everything, all for the sake of fighting myself to death, because either way I am right, right?

When really either way, I am exhausting myself and my resources. Either way, I lose. Anyway, I think it is time to get out of my own way. And time to feed my fish.

Signs to learn from Mo, part I

One of my plethora of jobs is at an aquarium. I learned to love the fish, the cool touch of the acrylic behind my fingers, the moist air that encompasses me as I walk through the tunnels. First thing in the morning, before the aquarium opens to the public, before the ambiance music is turned on, there is a peacefulness.  It surrounds me and takes me in, like a secret.

I have almost an addiction to that tranquility. And I bought my very first (and then second) fish ever. He is a red crown tail betta named Mozart. Mo for short. He has a one gallon tank on my desk, with a color changing LED light. And now I have that peacefulness at home.  I turn off my lights, draw my black light curtains, turn up my fan, and turn on his light.  It's like magic.

People familiar with a certain popular kid's movie know the motto "Just keep swimming."  Mo has a different motto. He blows bubbles. (I assure you, this is very natural of betta fish, don't be concerned for him!) If I am not feeding him fast enough, he blows bubbles. When he entertains himself, he blows bubbles. The first thing he does when he is in a tiny holding tank while I clean his, is blow bubbles.

And I think it is very zen of him. He takes whatever it is that is getting his gills in a bundle, and just blows it out. Makes him feel better, even happy. If I could let go as easily as he does, just blow it all out, I'd probably enjoy the tank I'm residing in a little more. 
So tonight when I turn off all the lights, and watch the colors change in Mo's tank, that's what I'm going to do. And Mo will nod at me in response, and blow me a kiss, in the form of a bubble.