The fish in the sea

On noticing what is already here

This short Zen story has stayed with me for many years. I return to it often, not as a lesson to be explained, but as a reminder. It speaks about proximity, about how what surrounds us most completely can also be the hardest to perceive.

In my artistic practice, this story resonates deeply. Much of my work grows from a similar question: how to make visible what is already present, yet rarely noticed. Not by pointing or instructing, but by creating a space where attention can slow down.

I’m sharing this story here because it reflects something fundamental in how I approach my work. Art, for me, is not about adding meaning to the world, but about allowing meaning to surface through presence and careful observation.

This modern Zen parable has circulated widely in contemporary Zen and contemplative contexts, where it is used as a metaphor for attention, perception and what is already present.

Once upon a time a baby fish asked an older, larger fish about the sea.

“What is the sea” he asked. “I keep hearing about it, but I don't know what it is.”

“Why the sea is all around, you little one.” said the grown-up fish.

“If that's so, why can't I see it?” asked the young fish.

“Because it's everywhere. It surrounds you. It's inside and outside you. You were born in the sea, and you will die in the sea. What's more, you yourself are the life of the sea. When you swim you reveal its presence. It's just because it's so close to you that it's very hard to see. But don't worry it's here.”

From the book “One hand clapping, Zen stories for all ages” selected, adapted, and retold by Rafe Martin and Manuela Soares

ISBN 0-8478-1853-5