by Bobbie Merrill

-Makua Beach-

 

“Our sanity and insanity lie on a continuum
between our honesty and duplicity.”—Dr. David Viscott/KABC-AM Radio

After hearing about my discovery while swimming with wild dolphins that telepathy (and the honesty that goes with it) is a central part of cetacean culture, Milt Friedman asked me a tough question. “Might the honesty of animals contribute to human sanity?”

In my attempt to answer, I was reminded of my first encounters with wild dolphins off the shores of Makua, a beautiful Hawaiian beach near the town where I was born. Because I was one of the first humans in 1990 to swim in the wild with dolphins and later with whales, I did so with the same trepidation other early explorers might feel.

I was clearly in new territory submerged on my own in the vastness of the ocean without any assurance of my safety. Nor did I have a clue how my encounters with the Hawaiian Spinners might go or if they would be friendly or hostile, or even if they would grace me with a visit. So, when the first seven-foot dolphin suddenly snuck up alongside me and peered into my eye, I was not only startled, I was terrified.

Thankfully, this dolphin quickly assured me that our encounter would be cordial as he glided beside me, while holding steady eye contact between us and bathing me in the soothing waves of his sonar. Before long, I dropped into a meditative state, which was the beginning of my surrender to this dolphin as a teacher who would open new doorways of information and possibilities for me.

The following week, other members of his pod showed up to gawk at me and more playfully interact by repeatedly spinning themselves high into the air to evoke my laughter and new realms of joy. They also played hide and seek by chattering noisily and then all going quiet the moment I got near them, followed by dashing to the place I had just left to resume their chatter, now filled with squeals that sounded like laughter.

Toward the end of our first week together, I noticed this whole pod of about 30 dolphins cruising in pairs very slowly beneath me in eerie silence, and then doing something that not only surprised me, but also irrefutably proved their ability to read my mind. Although I was moved to tears by the magic of the moment, typical of my species, I doubted the truth of such an ethereal reality.

So, during my next decade of swimming throughout the world with dolphins and whales, I constantly begged them to offer more proof of their telepathy in order to fully convince a rational person like myself of its validity. And, so they did…over and over again in highly intelligent and humorous ways.

One of their proofs came in the form of placing small toroidal-shaped bubble rings on the tops of each of my current husband’s fingernails soon after we dove into the water to swim together with the dolphins for the first time. I had just started dating Dr. Tom Merrill, a clinical neuro-psychologist and lifetime waterman. But when I told him about the dolphins putting these bubbles on my nails, he couldn’t conceal his eye-rolling doubts. Thus, the ingenuity of the dolphins immediately placing these bubbles on his nails, something he had not seen during his lifetime of swimming in Hawaiian waters, was filled with intelligent irony in addition to the telepathic eavesdropping required to create this joke.

Then finally, towards the end of my decade of regular dolphin swims, a proud captive female extracted my surrender to the reality of her species’ telepathic skills, and in 1999 I dared to write a book about it.

Yet, in spite of my own early doubts about dolphin telepathy and my persistent requests for proof of it, I was nevertheless so impacted by my first experience of it—when the 30 dolphins were so clearly reading my mind—that I decided to clean up my thoughts, including the common ‘white lies’ and prevarications of my culture. I started by acting as if my own society was also telepathic and a culture of truth, devoid of the vast deceptions we currently endure in our human world and the disruptions to our harmony and sanity that our tangle of lies provoke.

While challenging myself to get my thoughts clean enough for public viewing, I had to face how many harsh and hidden ones were tucked into the corners of my mind. The more I cleaned them up, the more honest I became, and the more transparent, kind, clear, and sane I felt. I had discovered the validity of Dr. Viscott’s claim – that the extent of our sanity is intertwined with the measure of our honesty!

I was not surprised by how sane my newly exposed truths made me feel, since I had been introduced to the relief of full transparency in my 30s while being tutored in Ho’oponopono, the traditional Hawaiian practice of reconciliation and forgiveness. And unlike the modern summary of this ancient wisdom, the success of its authentic approach to deep interpersonal healing relies on raw honesty. But that introduction was a short seminar, rather than the ten-year tutorial I received from the dolphins, which took me deeper into my commitment to truthfulness and the right (or pono) action that goes with it.

In time, I noticed that the cleaner my thoughts were and the more honest I became, the more the dolphins showed up to play with me in the various oceans I visited, as did the fish, turtles, mantas, puffer fish, eels, and octopuses.

I have wondered if the increasing numbers of cetaceans interested in meeting with people do so in an effort to break through our blindness to the peril that human dishonesty and deceptions create for us and for our shared world. I believe the answer is ‘yes.’

And perhaps the same is true for people yearning to meet with the dolphins or welcoming pets into our lives — to learn about more transparent living from their honesty and to enjoy the calmness that the innocence of their honesty brings to our days.

So, yes, I would agree with Milt’s proposal that the more seamless honesty of animals contributes to our sanity — to the degree that we accept, enjoy, and even emulate the gift of raw truth that they offer.

 

 

Hi, my name is Patches.  I think my human parents named me that because I am white with large dark brown patches.  Not very innovative, but it is accurate.

My humans decided they needed someone special in their lives and started looking for a pet which would complete their family.  It was 2020 and the pandemic was in full swing.  My parents wanted a rescue dog, but none of the shelters had any of the types of dogs they were looking for.  They eventually went to a breeder in Eagle Point who bred medium sizes Australian Labradoodles and were lucky enough to choose me.  I was only nine weeks old.

When I got to my forever home I was not feeling very well, but immediately took over as boss of the house.  My first six months were kind of rough on both me and my parents.  I got through an ear infection, a bladder infection, a torn dew claw and finally neutered. Ouch!

My life is trying to keep my humans happy and always smiling at my antics.  Living in Ashland, my dad took me to the large dog park there where I played with my friends.  I also learned that I really like to play fetch with my dad.  It was difficult at times because other dogs would steal my ball and not return it to me.  When we moved to RVM, the dog park was not crowded and the other dogs there didn’t chase my ball.  It was and is perfect!

My mom recognizes that I have so much to give to the world that she takes me to the Memory Care Center, the Care Suites and the Health Center where I let anyone pet me and enjoy having me around.  I like to bring smiles to their faces.

I enjoy car rides and barking at other dogs whenever we are out.  I also like any visitors that come to our cottage.  I bark at any men to let them know who is boss, but really enjoy all the women visitors.  I like to play with them, but sometimes I get too rambunctious and have to go to another room to calm down.

Still, everybody loves me.

 

For over eight decades I’ve been privileged to share my life with 37 rescue dogs, 18 of them who became members of my family. Old age has made me realize I’ll never have enough dogs in my life. Here’s a tribute I wrote for one of my precious pups:

 

At the sunrise of the new millennium, I craved an extra measure of comfort and prayed for a lap dog to snuggle with in the wee small hours. In January, 2000, we rescued a little four year-old female terrier who burrowed into my lap and my heart from the very first moments she entered our world. Naming this little canine was effortless.  As I had so often heard spoken from the pulpit in the churches of my childhood, God’s grace is his unmerited favor shown to all, an unmerited gift given to all mankind. It is the condition of being favored by God, an answer to the unspoken desires of our heart.  This little eight-pound canine was the fulfillment of my prayers.  We called her Grace.

Often I ponder the pure innocence that dogs offer, their unconditional forgiveness of human flaws. Why it is that our dominion over God’s creatures is physical and environmental only, not spiritual, which is entirely another matter.  Humans are such a mixture of the light and darkness that it’s possible we were put here “in charge” to learn from animals how to evolve our higher selves. They teach us perfect tolerance, fairness, patience and loyalty while offering understanding and companionship. My daily prayers include a plea to the Lord to teach me to be the kind of person Grace thinks I am.

photos by Reina Lopez