Ripples and Reflections

Every day, after lunch, I come to my spot. It’s a pleasant space filled with warm sunshine and a wonderful view. We all need a place to meditate on the meaning of our existence, the vastness of the universe, and why we are here in this place and time.

I am not sure how long I have been coming here, but it’s become a much-needed source of familiar comfort for some time. It’s not that anything in my life is terrible, but the status quo is, quite frankly, mundane, and this is my only solace. Some are fine with monotony, and some even wish for it, but I have always searched for ways to break free of it. I know I am meant for more — but so far, my life has been stagnant and unfulfilling. My fears trap me. Fear of what? Success? Failure? Is it easier to dream than to live? Status quo wins again.

I hear you saying, “but isn’t going to the same spot status quo, isn’t that mundane?” There is no denying that while every day can feel the same, watching these simple creatures give me a sense of security. I take comfort as I watch them meander through whatever their life is. They have no clue how fleeting it all is. Perhaps, I envy that. I know my life has more meaning, but the struggles that come with that consciousness can be burdensome. 

I love to watch them. Bright colors dance in unison through hypnotic waves. Back and forth, back and forth. Oh, to move through life with only the desire to eat, mate, and sleep. No philosophical conundrums. No moral dilemmas. No dreams dashed, loves lost, or despair in forcing your existence to have meaning.

However, as one would expect, today was unexpected. About ten minutes into my visit, it happened. I saw a life extinguished from one. I never thought of my peaceful place in that way. That it could be where life could end without a moment’s notice. While their life has less meaning, it’s still a life. 

Death makes you think. It doesn’t matter what dies; it’s still death. It’s the end. Maddening thoughts with no answers fill your mind. Did they have a feeling it would happen, or was it a surprise? Did it hurt? Do they even know it happened — do they have a consciousness? Do they form bonds? Will another miss them, wonder where they are, or do they just never return? Will anyone remember that they were there yesterday? Where do they go after they die? Certainly, they don’t go to the same place as me. Or maybe all creatures do? If I were suddenly gone — would anyone care?

I watched as the workers scurried over, surrounded it, and snatched it up. What a most terrible inconvenience for us all. A group began forming around me, surveying the scene with a morbid curiosity — treating it as if it were part of a show. The egotism of bystanders to believe the aquarium perpetrated this grand pageantry to shake souls down to their foundations. I tried to tune them out as their murmurs of “I can’t believe this happened to me” began breaking my own thoughts of self-pity and existential dread.

I noted that they wrapped it up in a black bag. Oh, what dignity to behold. It is nothing more than a carcass now. Garbage. Can you believe that? Simple creature or not, life just whittled down to garbage. A nuisance. An unpleasant part of a job. I don’t know if they just throw it out, but I shudder thinking of my own body, my vessel, being stuffed into a bag. 

Then, they carried it off quickly. Holding to their mission — this unpleasantness would not disturb us. You won’t miss this one. Another one will take its place tomorrow, and no one will notice. No one will care. Life will return to normal momentarily. Enjoy the rest of your day! 

It would be a story for some tonight, but then it would be forgotten. Think about it, the center of any living being’s universe is itself. Still, the ending to any life is nothing more than a minuscule moment in time — less than a millisecond in infinity. 

Maybe I needed to see it happen— another reminder of how short life is. Possibly its death wouldn’t be in vain if I could propel myself forward, using it as my jumping board. Poetically, it's an inspiration to shake me out of my head. A catalyst out of my rut, a reminder to go after my dreams instead of being a spectator in my own life. 

The garbage is now gone, and I realize that time has gotten away from me. I quickly gaze at my reflection in the glass and vow that from here on out, things will change. I swim off as another fish glides into my spot, unaware of what just happened. The world is suddenly back to normal. No one wants to see a human die, but our life must go on.