The Fish Focus

I have thought of writing, but then life gets strange. Every day, I write to the people directly in my life. Every day, I live to the fullest and become exhausted. Every day, I drink my glass of optimism and push through. I do it for the fish. I do it because that’s what makes things happen for me.

So I have quit focusing on relationships. I just can’t keep it straight. I could fill many pages of my woes. I feel differently one day to the next, after all, on that subject. Inevitably I shall tell you what deserves my attention. I focus now on my deepest interests. I focus on my fish once more.

I have so many fascinating animals under my care. By observing and devoting my time to husbandry, I feel fulfilled. I take so many pictures and make so many notes and it isn’t a chore in my mind. If only my time weren’t split to other obligations, my life would be quite simple. I don’t have drama. I don’t have concerns that occupy my mind for long. What concerns me would cripple me if I chose to focus energy. I expel the energy daily in my gleeful rants of this and that. Of baby fish and oddball critters and meaningful connections. It means so much to me. It means so much it hurts.

I’m interning now for the Department of Natural Resources. I feel a great expansion in my mind. I see where a previously arrogant girl thought she knew it all and knew nothing. I am here admitting how little I knew and how little I know even now. I’m thirsty for the knowledge. Even as I’m simultaneously aware of my unease with the world. I’m a switch that flips from confident to questioning at will.

If I focus on fish, I find the questions cease to exist.

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