The Triggerfish is one of the most intelligent and attractive fish found in the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico. It’s hearty size and delicately sweet flesh make it a delicious and memorable meal. It is sought after as a large marine aquarium specimen for its beautiful colors. It is identified by its triangular shape, small mouth, and large eyes with colorful patterns across its broad body.
The Triggerfish is known to be very defensive and guarded. It will lock its dorsal fin into place after it darts into crevices, securing its safety from other fish when it feels threatened. This fish, with its small mouth, will deliver a strong bite to protect itself from anything intending to inflict pain on it. This is also one of the only fish known to give off an audible warning from sensory glands to warn other fish to stay away.
I found this information interesting as I was looking for today’s post image. The word, Trigger, has been on my mind the past few weeks, and I didn’t want to connect this to the mental image of a gun or an old cowboy’s horse. Looking at this vibrant fish, and learning its story, I felt this was a perfect connection to my post today.
We are all affected in some way by triggers. Triggers can be beautiful and tragic. The smell of roses may remind you of your grandmother’s perfume or your first wedding anniversary. The sound of waves crashing on the beach can remind you of summer fun. The memories flood in your mind instantly with the sensory triggers. This Triggerfish responds too. The sense of danger immediately locks its dorsal fin into place as it rushes to the rocks for safety.
Some of us know exactly what that feels like-to run away from the crowd, locked and focused on pure survival until the threat passes. For me, that threat comes in the sticky days of July and August. These months have brought me joy, laughter, and many tears. Over the last 13 years I have learned to regard the triggers with care. Some I heed off before they can leave me panicked and running for the safety of my solitude, some I bravely embrace, and others I attempt to diminish. I have learned as often as the tides change, so do my reactions to these triggers.
The smell of new school supplies used to ring in the most exciting time of year for me as a new teacher and young mother. I relished in the bins of crayons spilling out in the aisles at the local store. The rows of brightly colored folders, organized neatly before the rows of binders to suit any personality and age gave me visions of dapper students entering the halls filled with laughter and a little bit of angst the summer was ending too soon. I loved to purchase supplies for my own children, and I always bought extras for the struggling teachers who never had enough after the sales all ended. School pictures filled social media with color, smiles, tears, and often a few missing teeth on the sun-kissed little faces.
Now the season finds me with a different response. I am no longer a classroom teacher, anxiously preparing my classroom for a dozen plus children. I no longer need to stockpile crayons and glue, and I don’t have school supply lists to fill for the growing needs in today’s classrooms. Yes, I have a classroom, with two of the most precious students ever, and yes, I still have an abundance of crayons and glue, but I don’t have a need to go to the store for the lunchbox, school clothes, and new binders. We will take our photo like all the others, but I don’t have one loading down her car for her sophomore year at college. I don’t have a high school freshman who needs to find THAT calculator and THOSE shoes.
Don’t misunderstand me, I am not looking for pity, nor do I feel sorry for our situation. I love that I will homeschool two more children and watch them grow. I love that I don’t have to spend a small fortune on the supplies, clothes, and electives. I also miss my girls like crazy, and I know seeing all the “others” get life as normal makes me miss them more. With that said, I took a social media hiatus. Not to ignore my friends who are posting pictures and celebrating the return to school, but to simply limit the times each day my heart misses my girls as their great adventures would be peaking now.
Like the Triggerfish, I have run to my crevice, dorsal fin locked, and I am guarding myself from any emotional attacks. As I think about this, I wonder what else this fish and I have in common or how their features are relatable to grieving people. They have large eyes, meaning they see much of the world that most will miss. I feel that I “see” so much more now than I ever did. I see the joy in small things, the tragic separations in our homes and churches, I see the pain others carry without ever hearing their stories, and I see the HOPE that so many seek but don’t accept. The small mouth part is absolutely not a similar trait I possess, but I have found myself more reserved in my words as I listen more than I used to do. With that, I do know that I will bite if I feel threatened, and I tend to be quite defensive. It has been said to numerous friends I have who have faced adversity, that people are drawn to them for their strength, their charisma, and their faith. People are attracted to them. The triggerfish is quite attractive and sought after for their beauty and unique traits.
Do you have triggers? Are you a triggerfish too? How do you guard yourself when the triggers come to strong for you?