Something's Fishy

A few weeks ago, before the world turned upside down, I noticed that I was running around a lot. My comings and goings had become so intense that one day, looking around my living room at all my coats, scarves and sweaters thrown on chairs, boots and shoes by the doorway, and piles of papers on the table, I actually began talking to my goldfish in despair. (Truthfully, my son’s goldfish, but we’ve been Arnold’s adoptive parents for many years now.) From his tank, I felt almost as if our goldfish was wagging his fin at me…giving me a sign of sorts…warning in his fishy way, that I needed—nay, that I would soon be forced—to slow down.

It occurred to me in that prescient moment that Arnold the fish must wonder what the hell I’ve been so busy doing. He must have been thinking: “Why is the door constantly, slamming open and shut? Why does this couple disappear for days at a time (causing me to miss a few of my regular meals), and why do they move so swiftly in and out of the house, constantly in a rush? Why is she always searching for her keys or losing her sneakers under the table?”

I thought to myself in that moment, that Arnold --who habitually swims leisurely during the day and retires to the bottom left hand corner of the tank every night at around 9 p.m. to sleep until 7 a.m.-- must think I’m nuts. “Yes, Arnold,” I said aloud, “we are running around a lot. Your life actually makes a lot more sense than ours sometimes.”

Well! Little did I know that just two weeks later Arnold and I would be so simpatico. Now, the door opens only twice during the day; when my husband goes out to take his run, and when I step out to take my walk. The clutter is gradually disappearing from the living room. There are a lot of hours when Arnold and I are together: he’s nearby when I roll out my yoga mat, when I read my books, even when I turn on the news. We’re spending many, many quality hours together, Arnold, my husband, and I. 

Arnold has been swimming in his tank for close to ten years. Universe willing, we won’t be confined for that long! But my fish is a beautiful reminder that life doesn’t have to move at such a fast pace. In fact, as we adjust to all the myriad changes this unwanted virus has brought to our days, I rather envy Arnold; for him, life goes on as per usual--quite swimmingly, as he might say.