Flipping through old pictures this evening, sort of a “meh!” evening, and I ran across these:
On the one hand, they’re obviously well fed and safe from predators. That can be a really big, important thing.
On the other hand, they’re restricted, confined, and not allowed to live in a “natural” environment. (A “natural” environment is one where they can starve and/or get eaten…)
On the gripping hand, they’re fish! I have sneakers with higher IQs. It’s not like any of these guys in particular are capable of having any thoughts above “pain,” “hunger,” “flee!” and “sex!” Even that last one might be problematic, a function that’s about as cerebral or voluntary as breathing.
But of course, my musings were not talking about the fish, were they? Do the fish understand the nature of the invisible, see-through boundaries that restrict them and keep them in their place? Do they ever comprehend that there is something beyond their ken that constantly prevents them from going over there or any further than that, no matter how much they might want to?
What about us? What invisible boundaries do we have that keep us confined? What restrictions are there that keep us from going over there or any further than that, even if we can’t see, or comprehend, or understand those restrictions? What restrictions would an outside observer see, someone more wise perhaps, definitely with better information?
Most importantly, which of those boundaries and restrictions are self-made and self-imposed? Are they invisible because we can not see them, or because we will not see them? If we truly want to go over there or do that, how do we find, identify, and eliminate those barriers?
Or are we just fish, happy to stay safe and well fed inside the invisible walls?
Wow — that escalated quickly. One minute I’m looking at a fish tank and the next I’m a Tony Robbins wannabe.
As we said in the 70’s (at least in southern Vermont), “Farm house, man! Outta state!”
Enjoy the pretty fish. (I’ll be sitting here listening to some Pink Floyd, I think.)