First, a Thank You to Steemit and Steemians

I would like to say that Steemit was the catalyst for me moving into writing in any kind of a vocational aspect. I have always written, but it wasn't until I took to writing daily on here that I found opportunities and really moved into it. The video game LaserChain was my first 'strictly a writer' project, and I found a range I didn't know I had. Now I have a few other freelance projects and I see myself only getting deeper into it in the future! So, no matter what happens on this platform in the long run, it has been a positive investment of my time and money. I'm grateful for all the people here that connected with and inspired me :)

Learning About Koi

One of the clients that I write for on a consistent basis is Kodama Koi Farm. Before I started working with them 'Nishikigoi', the proper name for specially bred koi fish, were just a pretty ornament that I admired in various beautiful courtyards.

The owner, Taro, writes most of the blogs and gives us our seed information for any writing we do. It is his family's koi farm and his father Mamoru, who founded this Hawaii based farm in 1967, is a highly respected author and Nishikigoi expert. I especially love reading the history and legends of koi beginnings they have written. The translation of Japanese descriptions and storytelling is so uniquely gorgeous, I really look forward to working and playing with that material more in depth.

Recognizing Gosanke

I have written a couple small introductory pieces about identifying gosanke, or the holy trinity of koi types, and from doing that can now notice nuances in koi color and patterns that before were invisible to me. One of the best feelings in the world is that transition when a subject or phenomenon goes from completely incomprehensible to a solid understanding. I know I'm in good company because I often see posts on social media where a student mentions their neurochemistry or propulsion physics quiz with the same sense of awe I just described (I mean, they are literally learning the cliched benchmark 'rocket science', so what's not to be excited about lol!).

I wrote about koi health, so learned behavior patterns that can signify sickness. Nishikigoi can live up to 50 years! Their relationship with their humans is long, and highly dependant. Koi enthusiasts, just as many pet owners, view them as family members, and a family can pass koi from generation to generation. It is unfathomable to me to have a pet for 50 years, and imagining how people treat and (hopefully) respect that relationship has consumed more than a couple hours.

I am a highly sensitive person, and I have a hard time in general with human/animal/plant businesses and interactions.

They are so entrenched in our existence and yet I can never stop feeling conflict about our dominion over them. I had a hard time when my sister and her dog Arrow moved in, I couldn't stop seeing him as a prisoner and yet didn't see any other option. Plus, it is obvious to me that dogs enjoy human company just as we enjoy theirs. My relationship with Arrow is as thoughtful and loving as I can be. Learning the balance between caregiver and friend is a process, but I can only do my best to create joy where I have power to. Reading more in depth about koi culture, and specifically the people I was working with, I saw both the same signs of reverence and possible disregard that I see with dog and cat ownership. It was important to me that I felt that they were doing as well by these animals as they could. When I recently wrote about the shipping changes, I came square in the face with it.

Now I will say this with full confidence: I have realized that any line we draw in the spectrum of whether we should 'own' animals or plants (I see the trees along the sidewalks as prisoners in much the same way as I see dogs and farm animals), or eat them, or organize them in anyway against their will, as a pretty indefinite line. I go as far in my thinking as to wonder if O2 molecules are soul mates that we tear apart every time we breathe. BUT, I don't live in guilt. I also certainly don't live in some pretentious delusion that I have chosen the correct placement of the line, and whatever I choose to own/interact with/eat etc is fine, but everyone else has it wrong. You can tell yourself that YOUR cages for YOUR beings of choice are the perfect choice but, I promise you, someone else thinks you are cruel and dead wrong.

So, back to the shipping of koi fish. When I started to write it, I noticed they had very strict guidelines on how they were shipped, and length of time they could be in transit. I know there are people out there who see the loss of an expensive specialty koi as strictly a financial loss, but I felt that the owners saw these creatures as other beings, as I do. So I did what I have learned to do instead of feeling sadness or guilt over the vastness of our moral choices: I did what was in my power to try and champion for them. I made sure to, gently, remind people that travelling is exhausting for any living thing, but that, like an astronaut outside of their ship , a creature being moved from its native medium was especially vulnerable. I make sure to include whenever I can the sentiment that the family impressed upon me in my first introductions- that these are lifelong family members whom you can thank for their beauty and tranquility with your service. And I think, just as with my dog Arrow, I have found my peace with my relationship to nishikigoi through the act of service.

Service is a love language, and having a deeper relationship with animals has taught me to value it more and more. My foray into Japanese culture via the beloved nishikigoi has helped me to articulate it.