So many things to care about, but every so often, you hit upon something you simply have to put at the top of the list. For me, that would be, noise pollution in the ocean and how that is affecting whales and dolphins who are totally reliant on working with sound to live and thrive.

Savannah was graced today by having Kathy Parrish from Oceana's Global Office (in Washington D.C.) come to lead a rally around the issue of the impact of seismic testing for oil on the ocean floors. Back in February, one of my heroes, Hardy Jones, Executive Director of Bluevoice.org went to the coast of Northern Peru to investigate a massive 900 plus dolphin die out that occurred in the same region where seismic testing had been done. The necropsies reveal evidence of accoustical trauma (see Hardy's website for details www.bluevoice.org). That is the biggest die off of dolphins I have heard of so far, and to think that the dolphins here on Tybee Island, that I work with, play with, learn from, could be subjected to those decibels and die as a result, it is simply unacceptible in any and all ways..

I went to the rally. The numbers attending were not large but everything in me let me know that this issue is something I must respond to in whatever way. So, responding today meant I was there shouting and blowing whistles along with this small group because . . .well, because it is doing something. The energy of us all was not anger. It was simple caring. We truly care.

Years ago, I had a dream in which I saw a whale's eye looking at me (a very large whale's eye, I might add). Somehow, the whale communicated with me something along the lines of "do something!" I have done some things (see section in my website on "Noise Pollution") and now, I plan on doing more. I can't not. I am FOR serenity in the oceans. We are a long ways from that, but at least, I am very clear about what I am for. I just pray we humans wake up in a timely manner.

I have for years referred to the handling of life's rough spots as 'being in the white water.' Several years ago, I gave myself the penultimate of what I had been referring to in my metaphor. For three days, some fellow travelers and I went on a no turning back venture down a portion of the Apurimac River (in Peru) swollen from intense rains. I learned so much during those three days from the constant attending to the moment that was required. Living that way is so exhilarating because there is no turning back. You have to be committed. So when you relax and know that whatever happens is not something you can do anything about even one split second in advance, a form of freedom takes over.
 
We all wondered just how insane were we to put ourselves in a river running wild, far away from civilization. There were no cell phones or help to be had. All we had was each other and our own wits and skill.

But we had something else. We had all of nature. I FELT the mountain spirits as a real presence. I felt the water as a consciousness. People had died in these waters but I knew it was not because the water wanted anyone to die. The water wants union, as does all of nature. When the boundaries of consciousness fall away, as can happen in the midst of danger, whole other sets of possibilities emerge.

Our raft capsized in a Class Six rapid right as we hit a rock and were going down over some falls. Bodies were being flung in the air. I remember the whole thing was like watching a movie. I had no sense of disaster. Even as I was trapped under the raft and going over the falls, I felt safe. I was so wide open, and I think that was what helped me know what to do and how to be.

We all survived, some a little worse for the wear, but we got through and finished a whole other day of getting to a place down river where we could put in.
 
A very strong impression was made on me many times over this three day period. In the raft, dealing with the unknown of the river, we were together and very reliant on each other. The fate of the raft affected all our fates. I get chills even writing about this and the power of humans pulling together when facing big challenges. I think this whole white water rafting episode is a very good metaphor for the times we are in right now. Whatever we are going through (and from all accounts, everyone is going through some kind of transformation) we ARE in the same boat, and we ARE going through these great shifts together. Heck, I even think that is the whole point. What better way to help us learn, from the inside out, we really are all ONE. Different versions of the ONE, to be sure, but all One, none the less.

The Lady of the harbor still stands with her invitation to "the huddled masses yearning to breathe free." Sandy did not topple her. But now there is a huddling of another sort going on. Neighbors are huddling while they sort themselves out. They have each other. Everything takes forever during this recovery period, so people involuntarily 'huddle' standing in long lines for what is much needed. Conversations with strangers take place that offer solace and distraction and even entertainment in the midst of so much uncertainty. Staging areas have the National Guard and the Red Cross being like magnets pulling in and together the ones needing help. Something about jostling together 'wing to wing' can be vastly reassuring.

Are there flare ups of temper due to exhaustion and frustration up on the Northeast coast at this time? No doubt, but my guess is that the bigger variable going on is compassion for others sharing the same discomfort and in some instances, deep loss. Northerners are known for speaking their mind without compunction but that does not mean that the waters of caring do not flow just as strongly within them. I'm always suspicious that a tough exterior belies a tender interior.

The picture I have included here is of my adored sandpipers huddling for warmth on a coldish day here on the beach, just like the penguins do in Antarctica during the intense winter storms. It is an instinct to do such things, and a great leveler of the playing field - no squabbling here over whose edible tidbit in the sand belongs to whom. The birds know there is comfort to be had in coming together when the wintry offshore wind blows.

Focusing on differences, as it turns out, is a luxury. When one has spare energy and time, then the differences can be indulged. But when life steps in and puts us all into the same boat, the instinct is to share warmth, for warmth is so needed at such times. Differences tend to go by the wayside. I find it beyond interesting that this storm came in and packed such a wallop on the most populated area of this country right at election time when there is such deep division in this land of ours. Nature seems to be telling us . . . "come together". "Huddle and share warmth." Many are doing just that. What a wonderful opportunity to dig deep in one's decision about who to be at the helm for the next four years. One's values become very apparent when one is so raw.

Dancing barefoot on the Green. That is what the Irish do at the drop of a hat. That is what they have always done. Ireland of old is no stranger to sorrow but these ancient Celtic spirits came up with an antidote. Music and movement (and great literature).They figured something out. Even in sorrow and difficulty, we have choices. We are alive, after all, and humans are potently creative so why not do things to lift our spirits and buy us time while we create a way through some mess we find ourselves in.

Yes, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Covering one set of feelings with another set of feelings is basically procrastinating feeling the full range, which is what is required in order to get to the next rung of possibility. A danger in refusing to feel the full range is that after a while, simulated joy does not work. You have heard of mirthless laughter, or smiling with sad eyes. But here's the thing. Many of the Irish if not most have a wonderful sense of play and humor and when we shift into those modes, miracles happen. We are given balance, and perspective, and a remembrance of why it is good to be alive.

As I write this, I am thinking of the 20,000 people who had to evacuate their flooded homes in Hoboken, New Jersey. I am remembering a scene in Dr. Zhivago in which people in dire straits were in a boxcar train, cold, hungry, scared with their senses being assaulted, and somehow, out of all that, they started singing lively Russian songs and dancing. For the moment, it was salvaging. I am hoping that for the ones reeling from the recent events up North, somehow, and very spontaneously they find, while they are in each others company, this kind of Irish and Russian respite. One last example is Africa. Always, Africans have used song and dance and drumming to infuse their sometimes unthinkable situations with the never ceasing vein of golden joy that insists its way into us if we so allow. A responsive human spirit has to be one of the most remarkable things ever.

So . . . do dolphins believe, you can't have that yummy Whiting fish and eat it too? Nope. That is a human belief, at least in this particular regard. There are two very powerful forces vying within us. They are, the desire to be uniquely ourselves, march to our own drum, express ourselves creatively and fully in a way no one else ever will, and, the desire to belong, be part of a family or group with whom we can share and give and receive pleasure and support. How often does it feel like (again, to humans) that we must choose one over the other as the top priority. If you are too unique, you are a threat and could get ostracized. If you are too allegiant to the group, you could slowly (sometimes without even knowing you are doing it) blur the lines of what makes you like no other. So, what's a human to do?

Here's what I suggest. Watch and learn from our cousins in the sea. I, being an avid watcher and learner in this regard have become very clear about something going on in dolphin societies. I do believe that a huge part of what they are up to with their high intelligence is doing very intricate work in their social interactions within their societies. They have not built any skyscrapers but I think they have pulled off something we humans are still wrangling with. They are 100% loyal to the whole pod, and they are 100% loyal to their own individuality, ALL AT THE SAME TIME!

If you pin me down to what in particular allowed me to arrive at that perspective, I would have to say it is no one thing. When I am with dolphins, I expand my own repertoire of how to know anything, which means, I am pulling information in from all areas of my brain. I am being inductive and deductive and intuitive ALL AT ONCE. Out of that, comes a kind of knowing that is bigger than its parts. I will submit in dolphin section (see 'Energetic Teachings') some examples of what I am talking about.

This is a large topic which I will go into much more detail about in the book I am currently writing (Deep in the Delphic Wave, due out in 2013). For now, I just put this perspective out there as one of many of the pieces of dolphin wisdom I think we humans stand to gain by. I observe that people are aching to fully be themselves at this juncture, and all of the age old fears of that not being acceptible to the 'whole' (whether family or friends or culture) are rising to the surface letting us know, it is time for this dichotomy to heal. And that's the good news!

The huge surge of energy I feel when a dolphin hurtles into the air next to me is so invigorating. I feel something just came and captured me and threw me up into the air as well. That is a kind of rocket fuel I sometimes feel I could live on all the time. But I cannot. Nor can anyone. Nor are we meant to.

Life is about a huge spectrum of feelings and experiences, and they range far and wide. The uplifting and exciting feelings that make us soar are just the best. Who would argue with that. But there are times when we need to be calm, and still, and go deep into our inner world and be prepared to deal with challenges of an energetic nature. When it is time to cool our jets, our bodies let us know, and so do our emotions. Frequently, at these times, more than anything, we need rest. Not just rest for our bodies, but for our minds and our opinions and our conviction that we know so much. These times of slowing can be very humbling because sometimes, they seem to come out of nowhere. But when we are agitated, or tossing and turning at night or just generally out of sorts, the highest dolphin leap in the world would not help because that is more rocket fuel. What is needed is . . . time out. Even if you think you don't have time for time out, you do. Life will arrange it if you don't.

But here's the thing. What follows rest? Real rest. Restful rest. Well . . you guessed it. More zest. It is a natural rhythm in life. Dolphins take time out to rest though usually we don't see that. All of nature does, but in our driven, hyper society with so much constant stimulation, it is hard to even register when a pulling back is in order. Just think of it this way. Zest is best when it follows rest. There. You got it! And when you are ready, back to the dolphin leaps!

Watching gulls swoop up and down at will in the medium of air, it is easy to feel a pang of yearning to follow suit. Humans being so very creative, we are now finding ways to feel what the bird feels by things such as 'wing suits', sky diving, hang gliding, ultra-lite airplanes,etc. So we can simulate the sensations that birds have but I would suggest there is something else we are yearning for even more than sensation. We are yearning to be free from entanglements that keep us from feeling we can treat life like a banquet of exploring and experiencing.

I don't know how many of you saw the video of the whale that was near death from being entangled in fishing net. This was down in Baja California. A small boat of people came across the whale and at first thought it was already dead. When they realized it was alive, everyone got into gear to try to cut the whale free using any of the limited means they had. The work was arduous and the distressed whale seemed to be hanging on by a thread, but, miracle of miracles, this whale (a humpback), did get free, and swam off, and began breaching and hurling its massive body in the air. The whale did this over and over and over. The exuberance of its freedom from entanglement was one of the most tangible expressions of joy I have ever witnessed. I will never forget it.

One reason the image was so powerful is that, I am convinced, this is what we all want. The things that entangle us seem so real and formidable and yet . . . our helpers, be they our own talents and intuitions or actual beings or invisible friends from other levels or just the tides of the time are always there doing the utmost to set us free. The whale did its job of staying alive while under great duress long enough to be set free. That is our job too. When the going is tough, just remember that whale hanging on, getting what must have seemed like miraculous help, and then going on to probably be having, to this day, a very fulfilled and grateful whale life.