Our Natural Habitat

When our eleven-year-old asked if we could keep tropical fish, I thought it was a great idea. A client once told me that after her successful surgery to remove a tumor from her brain, the doctors at M.D. Anderson had prescribed that she get an aquarium to help her relax. I knew we would enjoy them, but I never dreamed what keeping fish would teach me!

I'll share my first lesson. From the start, I wanted to do things right. So I bought a book to catch up on all the latest thinking about tropical fish. There’s a rule of thumb now about "one inch of fish per one gallon of water." We have a ten-gallon tank, so I estimated we could only have about six fish. The book also said that "schooling" fish need to be kept in a group. Fish don’t feel safe if there's not a lot of other fish around because being in a crowd increases their chances of getting away if a predator arrives on the scene. So I dutifully purchased three fish of a kind as recommended.

But, predictably, two of the fish eventually died. We still had four fish in the  tank, but I could never find them! They were hiding all the time.  

I thought that only fish of the very same kind could make a school, and I knew I'd have to change the water a lot more often if I went over the rule of thumb limit on inches of fish. But sometimes you have to take a chance. I went back to the store to buy more fish. And that’s when my learning began.

The very moment I released the new fish into the water, the tank came alive with life and color! I couldn't believe the difference. All the frightened little fishes had come out of hiding!

As I watched them zipping around, nibbling at food, investigating each other's finds in the sand, I  thought: Now this tank is their natural habitat. Back in a school, they are living the life they were intended to live.

And then I wondered: What would a natural habitat for people look like? What is the environment we need to feel safe, to feel truly free to be who we are? 

Think of the way human beings have lived over the centuries. We were born into tribes or clans who provided us protection and community. We once listened to legends passed down from our ancestors that told us who we were. We knew what contributions were expected from us for the common good, and everyone—no matter how small or unskilled—had some role to play in the community. We understood our tribe’s teaching about God, and how we were to dance or sing or sacrifice in God’s honor at the appropriate time. Life had its seasons, and rhythms we recognized--times of celebration and harvest, times of mourning and sacrifice, times of work and of rest. And whether we lived in forest or desert, on the mountain or by the sea, we were once surrounded by nature’s beauty—sunrise and rainfall, brilliant stars in a limitless black heaven, the sound of water rushing in the river or from our urn. 

Our life together as human beings has never been easy. In those days, and now, we humans have known the fear and pain of  disease, natural disasters, and death in our lives. We have struggled with greed and pride, anger and envy, sloth, fear, and gluttony, since the beginning of time. But there was in that simpler time a community, and an awareness of the sacred in life, that sustained us. 

The question for us in the mechanized West is: How much of the natural habitat of humans can we recapture for ourselves today? Who is our tribe now? Could we make space in our busy lives for beauty? For meaningful service to others?  How and in what ways do we  consciously honor our God?

The truth is, many of these things may still be in our lives, unrecognized. I know I try consciously whenever I bathe, to honor  the sacred gift of clean, running water. Where else are the essentials of our "natural habitat" hidden behind the electronics and concrete that surround us?

Recapturing the essentials that we need, we can be like those frightened little fish who have a school again.  We can find the courage to come out of hiding and truly live, abundantly live, as Jesus said. We can find the courage2change.