Fish Out of Water

Have you ever played 'Marco Polo?'

It is a game of tag played in a swimming pool. One person keeps his or her eyes closed and tries to touch someone to transfer the curse of being "it." To aid in the uncomfortable process of fumbling through a pool blinded, the person can call out, "Marco," to which others respond, "Polo." As if hearing seven people yell, "Polo" from seven different directions really gives a clue of which direction to blindly go.


At our house there was an additional rule, which was quite possibly implemented by my older brother and may not have existed outside our neighborhood. If you weren't "it," you could get out of the pool and walk or run around the edge of the pool to escape being tagged. This was a safe maneuver unless the blinded person ("it") would yell, "Fish out of water!" If caught out of water, you were "it." The curse was transferred and you were doomed to blindly struggle to find a strategy to transfer the curse. We all know yelling, "Marco" is limited in utility, so you were pretty much screwed.


That basically describes how I have been feeling over the past couple of months. I have been caught and I am "it." Cursed: like a fish out of water. Blindly flailing, gasping for oxygen, and desperately seeking relief. I am a 30-year-old gay man, who just finished his PhD from a competitive University in a competitive field. I applied and was accepted into one of the top post-doctoral fellowships in the country and moved to a new city to begin a new chapter in my life. I am thriving, right? Professionally I am at the top of my game, but I find myself in a new and uncomfortable place where I feel like I am suffocating rather than growing.


I have tried seeking solace in my work, as I have in the past, but it is not analgesic this time. I dread leaving my office because I know of the harsh reality that exists beyond the four walls. On the other side is a city with which I struggle to feel at home and people with whom I feel disconnected and annoyed. Sometimes the sight of their Subaru wagons and Birkenstock sandals is enough to initiate a craving for a happy hour martini. However, drinking to excess and engaging in adventures of lowered inhibitions is not numbing the pain this time. In the past, a few shots of SoCo and a couple Miller Lites has always left me appropriately copacetic. When feeling like a fish out of water, I would drink like a fish. I am learning that perhaps old strategies don't necessarily work in new situations. Or that I have grown out of my old strategies and need to develop new ones. I recognize that it was the location and the scenery of the local watering hole that brought solace rather than the actual water I was drinking. Now the water is poison and scene equally as toxic. I need to find a way to adapt to this new place. I need to evolve. It is time for this little fishy to develop his lungs, use his fins in new and interesting ways, and, again, find fulfillment in the moment.


This blog is a documentation of my current evolution. Evolution? I use the term evolution rather than change on purpose. Although evolution is a form of change, change, alone, does not necessarily encompass evolution. Evolution is the adaptation of an organism to enhance survival under changing conditions. The advancement of an organism or species in the name of survival. The essence of the oraganism is not necessarily different, but better equipped to survive new conditions. Still recognizable as the original form, but with improvements. This is where I am; caught between an evolutionary step in my life and feeling like a fish without water.

I have evolved before and the transformations have been meaningful and exquisite. Not only in outcome, but in the appreciation for the struggle and the inner strength and awareness that accompanies the process. I plan to document my evolution because I believe that sharing and enrolling others can have a dramatic and powerful impact on the process. Through revealing my neurosis and discussing the struggles I encounter, I will emerge on the other side equipped to handle the challenges of this new place.


Who knew dry land would be so frightening and uncomfortable?


Get up fish. Brush yourself off. Take a deep breath. And search for meaning.