THREE FISH
I was
sitting in a waiting room watching three golden fish in a fish tank. The tank was perhaps 3 feet high and five
feet wide, and maybe two feet deep. It
was bigger than any fishtank I ever had as a child.
I normally
read a book or magazine when I’m in a
waiting room, but something about them caused me to watch the fish. I watched them
go back and forth and up and down, seemingly always looking for food. I do not
know how long they had resided in that tank, but I figured that they knew the
full scope of their world, every nook and cranny, around every rock and all the
details of each plastic plant designed to look like real seaweeds. I watched to see if the three had patterns to
their movements, or whether it was very random.
As I
watched, I thought of the German novel “The Wall,” where this invisible wall
suddenly appeared in the countryside.
You didn’t see it, but you could not pass beyond this wall.
Because the wall kept people within certain parameters, people
died. It was a depressing novel.
Then I
thought about zoos, those places where we all visited as children and loved to
get close to the “wild” animals. I’ve heard
both good and bad things about zoos, how certain animals are saved from near
extinction in the wild because of the zoos.
And as I continued to observed the meandering journey of the three fish,
I thought about zoos and realized why I didn’t like the concept of a zoo, which
imprisons animals in confined spaces so other people can come and look at
them.
From the
animals’ perspective, it must feel like a life of futility and lost
dreams. Yes, it’s true that some animals
will live longer in a zoo and not go extinct.
Still, I don’t like zoos. An
animal can wander freely and fend for himself and probably live a shorter life
than he would in a cage, but he’s living the sort of life that nature intended. Is the animal “happier” in the wild? Does the animal even think in those
terms? Does the caged animal realize
that he no longer can make certain choices?
What’s the solution? You couldn’t
very well just open all the cages and let the animals run free. Some would not survive on their own, far from
home. Others would be a threat to the
urban humans and their pets.
As I sat
in the quiet waiting room while others read magazines or talked in hushed tones,
I continued to wait my turn as I watched the fish. It occurred to me that zoos are the partners-in-crime
with modern agriculture. Have you ever
seen a modern chicken factory, with three chickens to a tiny cage so small that
they cannot turn around, with lights on 24/7 so the farmer can extract the most
eggs out the chickens before they are killed?
While there are some free-range farms, chickens in small cages life-long
is not unusual. It’s the price that is
paid to have a surplus of eggs at every store.
And it’s why I always buy free-range, or not at all.
The fish
continue to swim back and forth and up and down, and I still do not see a
recognizable repeatable pattern to their movements. They do not seem at all
aware of my existence, and I wonder how long they have lived in the tank, and how
much longer they will live.
The door
opens and the receptionist at the doctor’s office calls my name. My last thought as I left the waiting room
was that I would never want to be one of those fish. And then, for a split second, I began to consider
all the limits and restrictions and repeatable patterns of my own life. “Hmmm” I pondered, as I go to see the doctor.
BOOKS AND CLASSES BY CHRISTOPHER NYERGES: Go to www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com
No comments:
Post a Comment