Dolphins and Warning Signs
Trauma Awareness and Healing
Out, In.
Out, In.
Out, In.
I watch two dolphins arc out of the water, in tandem leaps of life and joy, with no cares beyond the moment.
In, Out.
In, Out.
In, Out.
Like the breathing exercises I use to regulate a frazzled nervous system.
All the way down the coastline, the dolphins continue their gentle undulations, their own co-regulation exercises. They are like synchronized swimmers, but rather than vying for Olympic Gold, they seem satisfied with just being in sync. I’m reminded of the children’s song, “Merrily we roll along, roll along, roll along. Merrily we roll along, o’er the deep blue sea.”
But it can be dangerous to get lulled into contented oblivion and forget to be alert to the warning signs, as the Hilton Head Island beach website reminds with this disclaimer.
Beaches and oceans are dynamic natural environments. Crowd conditions, currents, waves, wild animals, and other water and beach conditions can rapidly change…Always remain aware of your surroundings and exercise due care for your own safety and the safety of others around you.
And sure enough, I hear three short blows on a whistle. The nearby lifeguard hangs a red flag on the back of their wooden perch and then jumps down to the sand. Another burst of three staccato whistles pierces the air, as the lifeguard runs to the edge of the water, and with their orange flotation device held aloft, motion for everyone to come out of the water. The lifeguard has perceived some type of high-risk danger, either a rip tide or shark fin.
From my vantage point under the shade of my umbrella, I watch the reaction of those who are in the water. Most comply and move quickly to the shore. A few hesitate. I understand the reluctance to leave the water, the very few days of vacation we get, and at those prices.
More lifeguards join, and the whistling and waving are now happening in tandem for as far as I can see in both directions. The message they are communicating to the crowds assembled at the water’s edge is a shark sighting. The protocol is that everyone must stay out of the water for 30 minutes.
As a child, I watched the movie Jaws when I was six. Of the many things my parents failed to protect me from, one of them was watching shows or movies on television that were not age appropriate—too scary or involved mature themes that my developing brain couldn’t process.
Everything about that movie brought it immediate box office success, from the riveting movie poster to the Oscar-winning score by John Williams, which became one of the most iconic film music motifs of all time. (He also “borrowed” it from the 4th movement of Dvorak’s New World Symphony.)
Toy companies monopolized on the movie’s popularity, as they do, and I admit to loving the game I received that year for my birthday.
During the pandemic summer of 2020, my husband and I watched all four Jaws movies in order as a distraction. Jaws and Jaws 2 had held up pretty well. (We won’t even talk about Jaws 3-D or Jaws: The Revenge. Creatives need to remember that it’s always best to quit while you’re ahead.)
I wonder if the fascination with sharks preceded this movie franchise. I’m not sure, but I know that the Discovery Channel launched a Shark Week in the late 80s that continued to grow an audience until it became an end-of-July cultural phenomenon by the 2000s. As I paced the memory care hall two weeks ago as part of an end-of-life vigil for my father, I stared at the activities calendar and was amazed that even this nursing home was celebrating Shark Week with activities such as “Fin-tastic Social,” “Find the Sharks Scavenger Hunt,” and “Shark Movie.” It seemed an odd theme for memory care residents. I hope the movie will be Finding Nemo and not Jaws.
At the beach, I continue to monitor the behavior of those standing at the water’s edge. As soon as the lifeguard’s back turns, I watch two daredevils creep from the edge to knee level. (They obviously haven’t watched Jaws.) More chastisement from the lifeguard comes their way. This time up close and personal.
I wonder what it feels like to assume nothing bad can happen to you, to feel invincible. I only know what it’s like to live by Murphy’s Law—“Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” The hypervigilance from complex trauma can program you to expect the worst. It’s a life saving function of the more primitive part of our brain where flight-fight responses originate. It’s also exhausting to be in that mode most of the time, hence the need for the breathing exercises.
But I also don’t want to be the idiots who have again waded into the water. There is a reason why the Darwin Awards are given out. The tongue-in-cheek website describes it this way:
In the spirit of Charles Darwin, the father of evolution, the Darwin Awards commemorate individuals who protect our gene pool by making the ultimate sacrifice of their own lives. Darwin Award winners eliminate themselves in an extraordinarily idiotic manner, thereby improving our species’ chances of long-term survival.
I wonder how many times the recipients preceded their memorialized feats with the phrase, “Hey, y’all. Watch this.”
Maybe those two who have entered the water for the third time will receive the award next year. Posthumously, of course.
For Further Reading: The ocean appears regularly in my writing. Some other sea-related Substack posts are below if you’re interested.
The dolphins syncing up, the lifeguard's whistle, then your dad's memory care hall doing a Shark Week social — that gut-punch of a detail right in the middle of a beach day. Thinking of you. Carried with care!
I have also been swirling around the powerful symbolism of dolphins and sharks. I get the contrast in the two, but I would also say that learning to take "risks" in life could be the life worth living sometimes. My dad was the man who said "Hey, y'all. Watch this!" He wrote about how grateful he was that God let him live through all his "adventures", but I learned that principle of a life worth living from him. He always told the story of me "always wanting to swim with dolphins, but all she ever got was sharks". But I would not give up the pursuit of the dream of dolphins even if it means I have to swim with the sharks to get there. Maybe learning to heal is about seeing shark infested waters and confronting them? 🤔 Thanks for sharing, Kellie!