As I enter the elevator to take me to the Reiman aquarium, I begin to anticipate what scenes I would hold witness to in this underwater world of mystery. The elevator descends while a full panel fish tank ascends hinting at the layout of this sea creature habitat. I glance briefly at the fish swimming seemingly carefree, then I notice the jelly fish floating along and upon closer inspection I realize they also have a touch tank with rays, crabs and sharks.
I think they have arranged the layout of the aquarium really well; it is interesting from any angle and very interactive which kids, adults and adults that act like kids really enjoy. I think it would be a lovely environment to work in, and probably to live in too. I look closely at the fish; they seem happy, well as happy as a fish can look. I suppose you could never really tell with fish. I inspect the tank, and start to think of how controlled their worlds are, water temperatures are controlled by thermostats, meal times are scheduled and they look at the same angle of the same building, every day.
I begin to wonder how happy they really are. A wave of sadness comes over me, and I try desperately to remember the outside world I left only minutes ago, I try to recall the last images I saw. Then a wave of calmness covers me as if it were a blanket on a cold night. I remember the trees. They are changing their color from the summer greens to the most enchanting, rich shades of reds, golds and oranges. I remember the leaves of fall, those glorious colors, and the crunching noise they make when I step on them. I remember glancing out the windows across Lake Michigan, seeing the miles and miles of expanse that holds the water. Each drop contains a secret, of the fish swimming in the lake, of the shipwreck they once passed or of the day it was a rain drop. And with that I had entered this other world.
I begin to reel as I realize my seemingly carefree world is controlled, by me, by others, by the environment. I have no say as to when the leaves begin to change, or to what hues the sky will take on as the day progresses or even when the tides of Lake Michigan will be so low they will reveal little known secrets. I can’t always control the temperature I am subjected to, and occasionally meal time is not my decision to make. I begin to realize the similarities that I share with these cold blooded animals; there are certain parallels between living above and beneath the surface. This realization is beginning to set in. I wonder if the fish realize the difference between night and day. Do their tanks have hours of darkness, as we do, when the sun has set ending the day and opening the stage for the moon to perform its duties?
I look around at the fish as if begging answers from their pursed pouts, but I notice there are around 10 silvery eyes ogling me. I feel as though I have become the fish neatly contained in a tank. I look at my feet; beneath them is a thick layer of glass, which is all that separates me from them. My sides are incased with walls of transparent entrapment. I look above me, hoping this will be my saving grace, however above me is the final piece of the puzzle enclosing my dream of freedom.
I know this is only temporary though standing in this glass aquarium tunnel. However I cannot escape the fish tank that is earth. Where each of us is swimming in our own pattern, hoping to make something of this environment we find ourselves in. Of course think we are different from the fish; we have choices we can make to decide where we go, to decide which path to take and control our destiny. Although in their own way so do the fish, they choose to swim left instead of right, up instead of down, forwards instead of backwards. I guess the difference between us is the scale of our tanks, and I am happy with mine, I think Earth is a big enough tank for me to have the opportunities to reach my full potential.
