Thank You Ezra

I first got a fish tank in 2004, after I had heard my biological father had died.  He was someone estranged from my life since I was seven, and the memories of him before that were not happy ones.  So the news of his death was a disconnect and a striving in me to seek something beyond him, something of my ancestors, rather than of what I knew of him.  My art mentor and friend, Peter Fletcher, had also died and I also sought some kind of investment to water and fish for a reason I could not define.

The first fish I found was an Oranda goldfish, white with a red “cap” as they call it.  He jumped in the net to come with me.  I knew it was the right decision.  I was pretty inexperienced then about the whole thing and learned the hard way in some instances.  That first fishes name was Ezra.  He was remarkable.  The fish in the pic up above was taken yesterday.  Her name is Clara and she knew Ezra, they were friends, so to speak.  When I got Clara she was much smaller and orange mostly.  She is gimpy, with a front fin missing and a bit of a deformed inner tail.  She gets along fine though.  She is a Lion-head goldfish.  They have no dorsal fin and usually grow a “mane” of sorts around their faces.  Hers never developed.  She was in a tank of bubble-eyed goldfish when I got her.  Probably because of the gimpy fin, which I didn’t notice till she got home.

Ezra really enjoyed being with Clara and he noticed her missing fin and how she compensated in her swimming.  I watched him on several occasions, hold down his own fin, the same that Clara doesn’t have.  He held it down, so as to not use it while he swam.  He wanted to know how she felt or how she accomplished swimming in that way.  He was remarkable like that.  He was never afraid of me.  He would rest in my hand when I would put it in the tank.  Ezra only lived a few years.  I couldn’t believe how much I had grown to love and appreciate him.

Two fish came after Ezra that Clara has known.  They were just not as hardy and didn’t make it long.  That is the hard part of having “fancy” goldfish.  They have been genetically manipulated in ways that challenge their ability to thrive.  Also, there is my learning curve for giving them the best environment possible, which has factored in to survival rate as well.  But, I have to say, I am learning the art of it now, and I feel pretty good about the condition of the tank and the care I give, though it has taken time and loss for it to be.

The two fish after Ezra were not like him at all.  They were scared of people.  They seemed to not trust as Ezra had.  They certainly liked Clara and related to her peacefully, but when I approached I sensed they weren’t sure if I was there to eat them or feed them.  Clara is like Ezra, she trusts and is peaceful. She has a gentle emptiness in her.  Not a mindlessness, but an emptiness that one has when they are at one.

I have a sticker on the tank from Masaru Emoto,  one of the Franciscan Sisters gave to me.  It says, “Thank You.  Namasmarana–Divine Love Heals All”, Clara loves to rest in front of it.  I find that interesting.  The buddha in the tank reminds me of Peter Fletcher actually.  He had such an interesting life, and he practiced Buddhism as well as a respect for Christianity.  He taught me a lot about art and about Buddha and Boddhisattvas.  He was generous in his sharing with me.  I think of the finger touching the ground from a buddha and the meaning of that,  which is resolution.  When Peter talked with me about that, it was like a dance of sharing while we did the work of hanging our art.  I think of Quan Yin, the boddhisattva of compassion, and how Peter called upon that embodiment in his art in the midst of deep grief.

I have learned something important in practicing the art of aquarium maintenance and fish care.  It is a practice that teaches one to face and let go of selfish impatience, and it strengthens one’s respect for the delicate balance needed for healthy, life sustaining water.  I treasure knowing Ezra and Clara especially.  They have shown me and taught me that they possess kindness and wisdom despite any scientific measurements and judgements that have been made about their kind.  I hold each of the fish I have cared for as gift and love them.  I embrace the discipline that can come with caregiving and loss.  Thank you.