The Pond of Taijitu

In a pond surrounded by a barren valley and a bright night sky were two frozen fish.

“I'm not making this up. There are billions of shining dots in the sky.” Fish One was optimistic towards his current living prison. Being positioned towards the stars, he could count each one every night, always finding entertainment in a new dot he remembered.

“I want to die.” Fish Two was a sullen fish. Being positioned towards the bottom of the pond, all that was in his view was the emptiness from the ground below.

They saw both sides of the world, but they could only express each other’s experience with the single use of words and trust.

“You always say this.” Fish One was worried about Fish Two's expression. “If I could kill you, I would.” Although the words were threatening, he was speaking from a place of empathy. Months had passed trapped in the ice. Positioned like two sides of the same coin.

“There’s no white fluff in the sky today. Only these beautiful bright dots.” Fish One’s eyes reflected off of the endless depths of space. He could see the stars moving as each second passed, sometimes not realizing how far they could jump across the night sky.

“All I have known is the deep.” Fish Two spent his whole life focused on the ground below, never realizing the sky above.

“Why must you always talk of stars? You and I see the same view. There is no need to express your nonsense.” Months of thoughts had created a deep consciousness of Fish Two. He was aware of his place in the universe, not just this pond.

“Sometimes, I like to create images with the dots.” Fish One was ignoring Fish Two's dread. “I miss seeing the trees.” And then, the yearning for freedom dawned on him. “We should be free any day now, I just know it.”

“Time is of no meaning to me.” The talk of days was something Fish Two did not wish to know. It reminded him of his enslavement to the pond. That his youth was filled with thoughts and not experiences.

Fish One decided to challenge Fish Two. A common occurrence between the two fish. “It’s okay to be hopeful. You don’t always have to sound so distraught.” The start of an argument was a reliever of stress, but also the source of their pain.

“Being distraught is my experience. You have stared at those stars for months, yet you still act as joyful as the first day we froze to this pond. You are in hell just as much as I am. Why can’t you see that?” Fish Two only wanted Fish One to acknowledge the fear that he knew they shared.

“Being joyful is my experience.” Fish One attempted to smile. He knew the pond would warm up eventually. “The dots have filled the sky for thirty nights. Sometimes we can’t change where we are, but we can still be hopeful about where we’re going to be.”

“You never understand where we are.” The two fish were stubborn to change, too focused on their eyes and not their words. “Our lives are spent suspended in ice, only waiting to die as soon as Spring arrives. My whole experience is defined by an abyss.”

“What if I told you I lied?” The passing of time created tension between the two fish. Fish One was confessing his experience. “What if I told you there have been so many nights where stars didn’t appear. That they would hide under black blankets, leaving me wondering when they’ll come back.”

Fish Two noticed his words. “Is tonight one of those nights?”

Fish One was silent.

“Please tell me,” Fish Two was rarely polite, “Is tonight one of those nights?”

Fish One realized his mistake. It was not wise to guilt someone into agreeing with you. “No.” His voice wasn’t joyful.

“Pity.” Fish Two snarled at Fish One’s attempt to act out of hypothetical.

“Why do you want me to feel your pain?” This is what the discussion always attracted. The disagreement with their experience.

Fish Two paused in thought. He was usually one for quick wit and frustration. Today was different. Today, he chose to listen to Fish One.

“Because, I hate feeling alone.” Fish Two felt the weight of his truth. The pain of his reality. This was the first time he decided to answer Fish One’s question.

“We’re always alone in our own experience.” Fish One wanted nothing more than for Fish Two to be at peace. “Our words help us connect with each other. All we have is our words.”

“If all we have is our words, can you tell me what you see? Exactly, what do you see? I want to feel what your mind feels.”

Fish One took a moment to observe the stars. His eyes darted across the endless sky. He did not remember each star, but observed the sea of lights that once lit their own pond. He focused through the cracks in the ice, imagining a clear view of the pictures in the night.

“There’s one group of stars that look like a tree.”

Fish Two was suspicious of creativity. “A tree?”

“Yes.” Fish One dove into his imagination. “An endless tree with routes and branches. Sometimes, I see birds singing in the trees, and other times I can even hear them.” He imitated a bird's chirp, content with the sound of whistles.

Fish Two imagined a tree with a bird. “Tweet, tweet,” Fish Two said, attempting to mimic Fish One’s accurate chirps.

Fish One laughed. “Yeah, exactly.” He continued. “Sometimes the stars turn into frogs. I can always see them hoping from one spot to the next.”

“What do you do on days when the sky is black?” Fish Two stared into the depths of the pond and couldn’t grasp the idea of stars turning into frogs. He started feeling hopeless.

“I sing.” Fish One never mentioned this before. “I sing about better days.”

“Can you please sing for me?” Fish Two was terrified of the pond below. He wanted comfort.

Fish One was gentle with his words. “I hope this helps.” He sang the subconscious of his mind to those that would listen:

It’s okay, to fade, my dear moon.

It’s okay, to fade away.

You always come back into my light,

you always know when to stay.

It’s okay, to fade, my sweet star.

It’s okay, to lose your shine.

You always come back into my light,

you always know when you’re mine.

I trust that you will appear,

and bring me joy, my friend.

Just as you go, I always know

you will appear again.

“That was beautiful.” For the first time in months, Fish Two saw the beautiful white scales of Fish One. They both hadn’t noticed that in the midst of Fish One's singing, the ice from the pond had melted. He stared passionately at Fish One, finally realizing how often he had looked towards the ground.

Fish One gasped. “The pond!” He swam in little dashes and circles, stretching out his limbs. “It’s finally Spring!”

Fish Two was captivated by the beauty of the pond. “Has it always looked like this?”

For a moment, both fish realized that their world had beauty, even for a small pond. “Only when you take the time to look,” Fish One answered.

Their prison had returned to their home, and their songs created melodies that made the stars dance in the grand sky. The two fish swam around the edges of the reflected moon. The surface of the pond had never been brighter.