Grow Otto Grow

Ever read the book A Fish Out of Water by Helen Palmer?

If you didn’t, you can scroll on—I’ll try to recap. But if you did, do you remember Otto? The little boy? Mr. Carp?

As a kid, I had my parents read it to me a million times. I couldn’t get enough of it. By the time I was three, I knew all 64 pages by heart. I’m not sure why I loved it so much—but recently, I think I know. It was balm to my soul.

Let me explain.

The little boy loved his fish, Otto. He saw it starving, so he fed him—a little too much. And all hell broke loose. Otto started growing, and there was no place big enough to hold him.

From the flower vase to the sink, to his parents’ bathroom upstairs. From the basement to the community pool—where everyone screamed at him for ruining their day at the water. Nothing helped.

With no choice, the boy fessed up and called Mr. Carp. Told him everything. Mr. Carp said he’d come at once.

By the time he arrived, Otto had already outgrown the pool. Mr. Carp wasted no time. He jumped in as Otto looked on—sad, scared, and frightened.

A few minutes later, both Otto and Mr. Carp disappeared beneath the water.

When Mr. Carp reappeared, he was holding a fishbowl with a small Otto swimming inside. Still looking sad—but back in the bowl.

With a stern face, Mr. Carp warned the boy:

“Don’t feed him too much. Just a little spot. Or something may happen. And now you know what.”

Let’s take this apart like a Tosafos.

Even as a kid, I instinctively knew what they did to poor Otto. Mr. Carp killed him and replaced him with another fish that looked exactly the same. He had plenty of those. And this time, he was sure the boy had learned his lesson.

Something always bothered me:

Why didn’t they just take Otto to the ocean?

Surely he couldn’t outgrow that.

But Otto?

He lay at the bottom of the pool.

Slayed.

---

As an adult, I realized why I loved that book.

Even though I couldn’t put language to it then,

it mirrored my life.

Over the years, I’ve seen myself as all three:

Otto. The soul that can’t find a place. Always too big. Always being moved from space to space. Everyone trying to contain him—but nothing works. And eventually, he starts to believe he’s too much. That he is the problem. Until he ends up lifeless at the bottom of the pool.

The little boy. Trying everything. Feeding his soul just a little extra. Wanting to help, to do good. And what happens? Chaos. Shame. Guilt. He tries to be responsible, but all he does is mess everything up.

Even Mr. Carp. Annoyed at both of them. Just trying to live a normal life while Otto and the boy create a mess. So he gets rid of the whole thing.

And as for my childhood question—

Why didn’t they take Otto to the ocean?

Because they knew:

Eventually, Otto would outgrow that too.

---

That’s how my life felt.

Nothing big enough to hold me.

Nobody who could save me.

Not even God.

Not even the ocean.

And I had to carry that alone,

if I didn’t want to end up lifeless at the bottom of the pool.

---

But on a recent trip to Mexico,

sitting at the ocean and meditating,

I realized something deeper.

My soul is Otto.

My body is the little boy.

And Mr. Carp is the rest of the world.

My soul just wants to grow. To expand. To eat. To stop being sad.

But little Yossi remembers what Mr. Everyone said.

That feeding the soul is too much. Too dangerous.

But he can’t help himself.

He sees his soul suffering.

So he does the unthinkable—

He feeds it more.

And the unthinkable happens.

And the world goes mad.

Nobody knows what to do with Otto.

So they do the only thing they know:

Shrink him. Kill him. Replace him.

Put him back in the bowl.

---

But the soul never dies.

And neither does its need to grow.

Eventually, the soul comes back again,

hoping to find a body brave enough

to release him into the ocean—

once and for all.

To not be afraid.

To not hold back.

To not try to fix or contain it.

But to let it be what it was always meant to be.

And the reason they never released Otto into the ocean?

Because they never understood

what it means to never stop growing.

It scared the shit out of them.

They’d lose control.

And they couldn’t afford that.

So they killed him.

---

And the little boy?

He wondered:

“But maybe the ocean’s too small too?”

And he was probably right.

But that’s why God made infinite space.

To hold the ones who can’t be held.

To give souls like Otto a place

where they’ll never need to shrink again.

---

Grow, Otto, grow.

-איש