When I was a child, I went to visit my grandmother and her husband. They had a koi fish pond in the back yard, and I loved to watch the big, slow fish wiggle and glide in the shimmery water. I stood there mesmerized as my grandmother’s husband told me story of one winter when it had been especially cold, and the top of the pond had frozen over. The fish moved slower and slower under the ice; everyone thought they would die. But when spring finally came and the ice thawed, there were the fish, just swimming along as if nothing had happened. I was amazed at the casual resiliency shown by these creatures; they nearly froze, and yet they just... went on.
Recently, I’ve thought back on the fish story because I’ve noticed some things in my life- some aspects of myself- that seem to be like these fish. It’s strange how things within us can freeze and reawaken, years later, as if no time has passed at all. A passion, habit, thought, or discipline that I’ve forgotten about will stir; something I thought was long since dead. Suddenly, it’s as if no time has passed, and this aspect of myself is back; brand new, and yet so familiar. And I’m reminded that some things never truly die. Even when I think I know myself, there can still be things buried deep, hibernating beneath the ice, that may return even when I don’t expect it. Of course, this can be both a good and a bad thing; a pleasant surprise reminding me of the strength of my still-beating heart, or a sharp pain from a wound I had thought healed. Regardless, these things help me remember that I am alive and not stagnant. Even as we grow, move on, and learn, our past still intertwines with our present to create a fuller, multi-dimensional version of ourselves, thus preventing our souls from becoming atrophied and dormant. I will try to embrace these happenings as they occur- the good memories as comfort, and the painful ones as reminders that old wounds still need care and healing rather than avoidance.
