I sat at the pond and watched the fish swim up and down the water. They looked happier because their movement was slow; the tranquility of the water made the experience more peaceful and comfy for them. The scenery was beautiful to watch. They seemed to have figured it all out, while I felt trapped somewhere, not knowing what the future holds for me. Watching the fish and the tranquility of the water made me happy after all that I have gone through.
I figured that if the fish were to speak, it would say to me:
đź’¬ THE FISH SPEAKS
"Look at me."
I don't have hands or legs, and I survive only in water.
"If you remove me from here, for sure I will die due to suffocation..."
Not because there is no air out there, but because I lack the parts that can breathe it.
"I can only survive in this cold water, which I am sure you fear to touch."
Imagine if I had hands and everything else based on which you call yourself intelligent—but I don't.
"I wish I was like you; you can live anywhere and survive in different places. But I can't."
"I try hard to live as happily as I can right here in the coldness that you dislike."
Even though you can't live in water, at least you have ways to survive.
Those were the thoughts I reminisced on as I was looking at the water and the fish in it—happier than I could ever be, even if I were given all that I crave. I was happy for them. At least even that small fish can be happy despite limited resources.
For me, it's a different story. I don't know how bored I would be if technology were to vanish and I returned to the old stone age, the dark days. I was a watcher, reading between the lines to find out how my surroundings impact me.
I turned my eyes from the fish and started watching the water—the colorless liquid, or what can I say, the liquid that takes the color of whatever it is in. I wouldn't be wrong if I said water is camouflage, but I wouldn't be entirely right either, because it is colorless for sure. The water was still and had minimal movement; even a single drop altered its tranquility. The color came from the plankton and algae within it. I wish I was that way: not needing to change myself, but always ready to adapt to any situation without worry.
I looked into the water and figured if this water was given a mandate to talk to me, I am pretty sure it would say this:
THE WATER SPEAKS
"I am colorless..."
...but I can take any color and be called green or whatever else.
"And if I am removed from there, I will still be the way I've always been."
Nothing can change me. I will adapt to whatever environment I am in, but the unblemished part of me will always remain. I will never lose my purity.
"Even so, I am relentless, flowing with great force."
Yet when I am calm, that is when my force is deepest, because no one will know what I hide beneath the surface.
"I will flow and hit rocks" — even if I know the rock won't break no matter how hard I hit.
"When my path is blocked, I will find the smallest opening, exert my entire energy into it, and make my way through."
"The happy thing about me is reaching my destination,"* and that is why I move fast downstream. No matter how winding the path is, I will remain flexible enough to fit into that space and reach where I'm going.
"That isn't all—I could tell you so much more, but it won't matter if you don't understand."
"Now go, think about that."
image from pexels
I was grounded and almost speechless. Here I was with my thoughts—the overthinking part of me that screamed, and the internal voices that had become the sage I tried to understand.
I headed back home, but the core lesson I now know is this: Be happy. Tomorrow will take care of itself.