A sea lion turns down the tide
A sea lion briefly escaped (archive) from the Central Park zoo when Manhattan flooded today. It was almost like Madagascarāalmostāexcept that after swimming out of her pool, the sea lion explored the enclosure, and then swam right back home to be with her two sea-lion companions.
When I think about this incident, I think about the motif of water and opportunity. Take Toni Morrisonās Beloved, when a flood gives Paul D the chance to escape. Or take Shakespeareās Brutus, who speaks metaphorically about a ātideā in the affairs of men. A rising tide lifts all boatsāat least, all boats that accept the lift.
But what about those, like the sea lion, who turn down the lift? You could say thatās more sea-sheep behavior than sea-lion behavior, but⦠Iām not so sure. Three years into graduate school, I might even call her an iconoclast. In a career that imposes an almost unbearable pressure to capitalize on every passing opportunity, and in a field that admires hunger and rewards ambition, I think it takes extraordinary strength to let yourself be content with where you are: to define yourself not only by what you say āyesā to, but also by what you say ānoā to.
Turning down an opportunity can feel and sound like being lazy, weak, cowardlyāwe have a lot of loaded vocabularly hereābut as long as you have done your due diligence, I think it can also be a sign of wisdom, self-knowledge, and resolve. Iām thinking of the English lyrics to āNo More Bluesā (āIf travel beckons me, I swear Iām gonna refuseā): I used to read them as a kind of burned-out weariness, but now I read them as a celebration of the moment when you recognize you already have what you are looking for. If anything, I think it takes courage not to pursue opportunities just because they happen to present themselves: confidence that you are already on the right path, confidence that moreābetterāopportunities will come along in the future.