“Look at the fish.”
The students stared. It was still a fish.
“Look again,” the teacher said.
The students looked again. And they stared some more. And for some, the fish remained a fish.
But slowly, a few students started to see the textured scales of the fish. The way its fins swished as it glided around the bowl. The rhythmic flow of water streaming through the mouth and out the gills.
And for those students, the fish was no longer a fish.
It was a complex creation, beautiful and flawed. It went from an everyday creature barely worth a glance to a remarkable combination of art, engineering, and life.
And the students began to write.
This story comes from David McCullough, a Pulitzer Prize-winning author who passed away in 2022. McCullough was a literary titan and a master of detail — the only man who could spin out 800 pages about the Brooklyn Bridge and leave you feeling like the book was too short.
As he wrote, McCullough kept a sign above his desk:
“Look at your fish.”
January 1 is the cleanest date there is.
When the clock hits 12:00:00, the fireworks go up and the champagne goes down. And the chipped, worn-out slates that we recorded our last year on are renewed. And where they were once dingy and yellowed, they gleam like Nordic snow.
And we vow to make big changes in the New Year.
And we vow to leave bad experiences behind.
And we vow to keep our slates clean.
But what if we didn’t?
What if instead of redesigning our lives, we simply looked more closely at them?
I recently wrote about the danger of living the same life every day, but change doesn’t have to be dramatic to spark dramatic change.
What in your life do you do every day?
What do you think every day?
Who do you see every day?
Do you do those things the same way?
Do you ever challenge those thoughts?
Do you make an effort to connect more closely with your people?
When we struggle, we want change.
And when we map out our goals in the fresh air of a new year, that change usually takes the form of addition or subtraction.
But who says building something new or dismantling something old is more effective than renovating what’s already in place?
What if you have enough? What if you are enough?
What if everything you have in your life right now is enough to spark daily joy, enough to provide nightly comfort, and enough to make your slate one you add to instead of one you wipe clean?
Internal change will always be more powerful than external change.
Look at your fish.
I'll be looking closely at my fish. Thanks for the insightful post, Adam.
Outstanding and insightful article, Adam. I too love that quote from McCullough from "Brave Companions".