29
May
You might recognize me from all those marine-sounding studies. They usually compliment me on my brains, self-awareness and stunning communication skills. If none of this sounds familiar and you are just furrowing your brow in confusion, let me fill you in.
Dolphins are capable of recognizing themselves in the mirror (do not trust those who tell you otherwise, although I am flattered some people think that I don’t smoothen my appearance in front of a reflection). This is already great, because most animals cannot. Which is really astonishing to me, given how flawless and put together they look at all times!
We also build great communities, on all measurable scales. Our social memory is off the charts. Members of the club are never forgotten, we could recognize them from miles away (I am legally bound to mention that this is an exaggeration, meant to emphasize how cool this ability is). Our communication is quite unique and we are very proud to have created such a complex system based on seemingly simple sounds. The best part? No one outside the pod can understand us. However, we can sort of understand the logic and rhythm of their conversations.
Our brains are huge. No hyperbole here, they just are. And we have around 12 billion neurons. And we are really good with tools too. Maybe this specific combination allowed me to design my dream skirt made out of corals. I plan on crafting something for each member of the pod and surprise them at our next gathering. I, for one, already know what I will wear!
I am sorry, dear reader, I think I am doing it again. Every time I am asked to talk a little bit about our strong suits, I just trail off. It is like I cannot make my attention oblige. Everything else seems more valuable. Despite me knowing that the information I was offering you was important, it just slips through my metaphorical fingers (people seem to like being able to visualize bodily-specific images).
It reminds me of that one time I was asked by my kin to hold the introduction to one of our seminars. In the end, of course it turned out right, but the process of getting there was gruelling. Whenever I tried to “sit” down and get to work, I would get distracted, extremely tired or uncharacteristically sad or hopeless. I did not bother trying to understand why I experienced these weird symptoms, I was already in a hurry and under significant pressure. So I just pushed it back until it happened again with another task. And again. And again.
The end result was always up to snuff and no one suspected what I was going through while working on that project. I kept quiet because I did not get it myself. Why was I behaving so peculiar when faced with an ordinary task? Was I broken somehow? Was I actually a different species from my brothers and sisters who discovered how to turn parts of their brains off in order to not drown? Why was it so hard for me to do something that should be so so simple? Was I adopted?
While all these questions were making the rounds in my pretty vast cerebellum, I decided to jump to the surface for a little break. Things could not be louder there than inside of me. Sometimes, I feel like the deep waters are just an overly-eager echo of my inner dialogue. So, yes, the surface! I could already see two wavy figures through the more superficial layer of water. I got excited, maybe they had some treats! I trust my ability of sensing dangerous humans, these did not make the list. Nonetheless, my speech recognition and understanding skills have approved more than I had been previously aware of. I sort of got the general topic of their conversation and, because it seemed relevant to me, I decided to not approach them and just gently eavesdrop.
I did not get every detail, only the main story: one of them was having an inner dilemma and the other one was doing his best in emotionally assisting his friend. Apparently, he had gotten into a very prestigious university (I know the concept of university, we have loads of visitors from there). He even finished it, but every step of the way felt painful. He knew that he had what it takes, but he could find no motivation to get started on anything. Everything he ever delivered was developed with boredom and anger. He did not want to be there, he knew that clearly. Yet, he felt guilty because of it.
I could not believe my theoretical ears! We were basically in the same spot. I even did some approving and excitement-displaying sounds, but they mainly got startled and slowly left. That did not matter. I did not feel broken anymore.
Even if I could not comprehend everything the humans were talking about, something clicked inside of me. Maybe the reason I did not want to do all those things I was mentally capable of was that…I just did not like doing them. I know, it does not sound like that much of an intellectual realization, but sometimes the easiest correlations show the most resistance.
Or maybe I just did not want to accept this truth about myself. It contradicts everything I thought I was. Everything I thought I was supposed to do and want. Perhaps I did not mention this before, but we are quite brilliant. So why would I waste my abilities on mundane tasks? Who will cure the marine world if not the most astute residents? Hmmm, maybe the ones who actually feel called to do so.
Is it about what you naturally have or more about what you are willing to acquire? I for sure did not inherit a magical “attire-making” gene. My tail hurt for 2 weeks after hunting for all the corals and the seashells for my aqua-themed accessories. That skirt I was telling you about? At first I was so embarrassed to wear it outside my usual patch of water. But I did. I felt horrible at first (and for quite a while after that too). Gradually, it started to feel almost normal, comfortable. And that’s when I knew I had to step it up a notch and create something even more theatrical.
Each part of the process gave me such joy, I did not even care about time or pain or sleepiness. I just needed to do more of what made me feel that fire of contentment inside of me. And it was never like that with these stupid (excuse the language) projects they gave me. The only moment I felt at peace was when everybody had stopped applauding and went home. When it was quiet and dark and I could rest. If that’s how geniuses live, then I truly do not want to be one.
Nonetheless, I am, and I suppose I have to live with that knowledge. Unfortunately, it also makes me analyze every little aspect of everything until the algorithm does not make sense anymore. Makes me? Does it truly make me? Or is it just easier to see it as an obligation instead of what it really is? A way of making sure that I am always on the right path. If I stopped with the doubting and rubbing my flippers together, I would see the truth: there is no path laid out for me.
And no matter how scary and uncertain that sounds, it is so much nicer than knowing the direction you are heading to and hating yourself more with each step you take. In deep waters, who even bothers with the destination anyways? It is all blue and alive. If you take a break and listen carefully, you might hear a symphony. I know now that I am meant to follow the music.
