More than one year has passed and it seems the government in my fish tank is about to change again. The smaller fish that hid and swam in the yellow and white stoned bottom have outgrown the threats of bigger, more aggressive fish in the different levels of their 46 gallon world.
One fish, however, did not grow as well as the other classmates in his school …..I can relate to that.
This tank of mine is kept in a special part of my house. It rests on a black and brown stand to the right of the doorway in a room I choose to call, “The writing room.”
Each morning, I come into this room and spill fish food into the tank. I sprinkle the dime-sized colorful flakes onto the surface of their atmosphere, but not too much, and then I watch the food slowly sink and disperse throughout the tank.
The fish swim to me, I suppose feeling thankful for these gifts which they are about to receive. Maybe they see me as god-like, or as some huge magnified creature that allows them to eat and sustain life as they know it.
I care for them. I clean the tank when the water is dirty and re-fill the levels when it falls too low. I have placed different structures at the bottom and provided shelter for those that live in this environment because I depend on it.
I depend on the quiet sound of hushing water that spills onto the surface from the filter; I depend on the light to brighten the room when it is otherwise dark. I depend on the life sustained in this fish tank, and I suppose that life depends on me as well.
The fish look at me…..I swear they do.
And whenever I approach the tank, they all swim to the top and wait to see if I will bless them with a meal.
Like the rest of the world, my tank has a government or divisions of power and status; there are the bottom feeders, mid-level, and top feeders. There is a hierarchy and separation of strength and class.
First, and above all, there is the big Cichlid. This fish was once the tiniest and most bullied —but now— this fish rules the tank.
And like the big fish, there are three smaller of the same species; these are also Cichlids. In fact, they were born from the big fish.
The big fish was once part of a mating pair. But the other and larger half of this pair was unkind. The other half of this mating pair was aggressive, and at the time, the big fish was not so big.
But once the smaller in this couple outgrew the larger, the relationship changed, leaving behind a school of small fish to fend for themselves in a fish tank with divorcing parents.
However, once the separation was over, the proceedings in their tiny world (not unlike our world) was brutal. The winner in this separation took over the tank. The loser sadly wallowed and eventually….the other half of the mating pair died.
This leads me up to now….
That was more than one year ago. Some of the little fish, which were born from the unhappy pair were able to survive. Some grew large enough to comfortably swim throughout the tank without too much trouble from the big fish.
They have the ability to feed at the bottom, mid-level, or at the top of the tank with freedom. The big fish will occasionally chase the smaller to let them know who is in charge, but when I walk into the room, all of the fish look upwards to their form of heavenly light. They stare upwards and wait for their version of a higher power to feed them.
All of the fish do this, but one.
Swimming at the stoned bottom and hiding in the “Made in China” structures of imitation coral, a small fish flutters along, lonely and beaten. Most of its tail is missing and the smaller fish is often overrun.
Apparently, the others that were once its size have chewed pieces of its ass. They betrayed their former classmate and their school is no longer in session.
But the little fish looks at me too.
He swims in awkward patterns and as I feed its tank-mates, I wait to see the food hit bottom and then I make sure the little one eats…
I can easily compare this to life.
True, the fish survives in spite of its elements.
I suppose the little fish wonders, “Why did this happen to me?”
“Why couldn’t I have been born differently?”
I suppose this fish feels as if I have forsaken him….if it is a him, that is.
But I have not.
I pay more attention to the small fish than any other in the tank. I make sure it eats. I make sure it survives another day, and I try to show signs of hope and rearrange the “Made in China,” structures so the fish could have better places to hide.
I speak to the small fish, though this is never out loud, and even if it was, I doubt the fish would understand.
I say, “Don’t worry. I have not forgotten you.”
“I know you’re in pain…and I know your life is tough. But I’m always watching over you.”
“Believe in me.”
In this small system of life, the last is first and first is last when it comes to the matter of my love or attention.
And in this case, no government or division of status can ever change that.
As I write to you on this Tuesday evening, the sun has decided to retire. The horizon has its share of pastel colors, and soon, twilight will give way to nighttime.
As I sit down and attempt to clear my head, there are issues at hand.
In a sense, I have others looking to bite at pieces of my tail. I have some that look to challenge or take from me. I have a mother in the hospital. I have financial concerns. I have people that depend on me, bosses that yell, co-workers that connive, and like the little fish, there are times I move in awkward patterns because my world has taken pieces of my ass.
But still, I endure.
I survive in spite of my elements
And like the small wounded fish, I sometime look upwards to the light.
I ask my version of a higher power, “Why does this happen?”
“Why couldn’t I have been born differently?”
“Why couldn’t I be bigger, or better?”
I suppose I feel forsaken at times — I feel as if I am last.
I feel beaten and awkward.
It’s not always easy, I guess.
Perhaps I should be aware of the signs.
Perhaps I should watch for the changes in structure around me.
Maybe that’s The Father’s way of saying, “Don’t worry. I have not forgotten you.”
Maybe this is His way of telling me, “I know you’re in pain…and I know life can be tough….but I am always watching over you.”
Believe in me…..
The Written Addiction 