Forward
Manta Ray
Animal Humanities
October 9, 2012
Forward
I am warm and safe. It is dark, and my
wings are curled around my body. I sense the gentle motion of my mother
smoothly carrying me forward. Sometimes the forward motion leads up, sometimes
down, but always forward.[1]
I can feel my motherÕs steady heartbeat. My entire memory consists of forward
motion and that reassuring drumming sound, du-dum, du-dum, du-dum.
That is all I know until the beat
quickens and the forward motion is suddenly more forceful. A new sensation runs
through my body. The space begins constricting around me, and we travel forward
and down, down further than ever before. A gentle pressure begins from below
and builds into a strong squeeze on my folded wings. My motherÕs heart is
racing more rapidly than I thought possible. There is more pressure, and it is
so uncomfortable that I wiggle my confined body. Suddenly, more so than
anything I have ever known, my mother rises, but I do not rise with her. All in
the same instance, I become cold and blinded by a great light. I struggle to
understand this chilly new place. But somehow, a single fundamental message
penetrates the confusion, an urge to move my wings. In my first act of
independence, I unwrap my wings from my body and uncomfortably expose my torso
to the world. [2]
I yearn to wrap myself in my wings again,
but I do not dare because the instinct to move them is so persistent. As I flap
my wings, I move forward. This sensation is familiar and comforting. My eyes
are able to make out shapes in the blinding light, and they struggle to see
through the cloudy substances my mother left in the water. I look for her,
curious to glimpse the form that I was a part of for so long, but she is gone.
I am alone, just me and the water that seems to go on forever on every side of
me.
I continue forward, for that is all I
know. As I move, I notice my mouth pulling water over and through my gills.[3]
The sensation is refreshing and energizing. I notice tiny zooplankton being
caught in the protrusions from my gills. This is extremely satisfying, and I
realize I am hungry. I continue my slow, relaxed swim toward areas where there
are more plankton. My gentle feeding swim feels as natural as if I have done it
forever and will never stop. I do not stress or become anxious about my
destination. I simply know that I am content in the here and now, and the basic
act of being is satisfying.
I continue forward—always forward,
and the light changes. I notice that the light originates from a dazzling, rippling
surface above me. I am curious and approach it until I am almost touching the
splendid surface. It is unknown to me, but I do not know fear. I move to touch
it and my wing tips glide through the wonderful, tickling barrier. Without
reservation, I swim swiftly down to gain speed and whirl back up to break
through the surface into a hot, dry space. I plummet back into the water and
then up again into the peculiar other world.[4]
These flights delight me, so I continue to perform them. Gradually, the worlds
both above and below the surface become dark. I resume my swim and pass through
a concentration of plankton greater than I have ever encountered. I
want to swim back to the column of plankton, but I cannot swim backwards. I
compensate by curving my back so that a new angle of forward propulsion sends
me into a somersault.[5]
I tumble right back into the plankton. I repeat this action continuously up and
down the water column until I am wholly satisfied. I continue onward without
hurry, for I have nowhere specific to go. I simply progress through the water
with no fears, no worries, and no reservations. The light comes and goes many
times, but I am always here, always moving forward. In my forward journey, many
creatures pass me, but I do not bother them and they do not trouble me. I do
not have constraints or rules, and my life has no set path. It does not have a destination, but rather, is a
never-ending journey.
I pull myself out of my life as a manta
ray and back to reality. I realize my connection with the manta ray has become
almost tangible and, after a meditation, it is impossible to quickly shrug off
the manta ray persona. When I think as the manta ray, I experience my long-time
desire to feel like, ÒI am part of the natural world,Ó but there is so much
more to the experience than just a feeling.[6]
I believe I have actually tapped into the collective unconscious. When I step
into the Òuniversal human bathtubÓ
that holds the Òmemories, experiences, and wisdomÓ of our species, the Òvast
network of imaginationÓ penetrates every level of my being. This Òinnate
wisdomÓ affects me in many ways, from the obvious to the incredibly personal. [7]
To
begin with, I pride myself in my creativity and willingness to be
unique. In manta rays, Òeach
individual has a characteristic pattern of dark markings on the ventral sideÓ
that cause each manta ray to be one of a kind. These Òindividual identifying
marksÓ make manta rays just as unique as I am.[8]
I further relate to the manta ray based
on our mutual affinity to water. As a child, I was in love with The Little Mermaid, but there was one
detail about the movie that ate away at me. I could not understand why anyone
would want to live on land instead of Òunder the sea.Ó[9]
I used to hate swim lessons, not because of the swimming, but because I did not
like constraints on my time in the water. I wanted to do what felt natural, not
perform predetermined movements for a designated amount of time. This youthful
desire for freedom in the water manifests itself in the lifestyle of the manta
ray. As I grew up, I continued to be enamored with water. I came to love
sailing and kayaking, and I became a certified scuba diver at the age of
twelve.
On
dive studentsÕ first dives, they usually describe breathing underwater as
awkward, incredibly thrilling, or both. However, for me, it felt natural, like
something I was meant to do. Eight years later, I am a certified dive
instructor. If I could, I would spend more time in the water than out of
it. Therefore, it makes sense that my spirit animal is not only a sea creature,
but it actually appeared to me during a scuba dive in the ocean on the island
of Bonaire.
The manta ray approached the dive boat
and circled underneath it. The first diver in the water announced that there
was a manta ray under the boat, and I have never seen a dive boat clear out so
fast. Sixteen divers geared up and jumped in the ocean in about forty-five
seconds. The tumultuous splashes of divers and tanks hitting the water did not
provoke the manta ray. In fact, he did not seem like he had ever harmed
anything or anyone and was just there to quietly observe. Unfortunately, not
everyone has this same mentality, as evidenced by the yards of fishing line
tangled around one of his wings. It had obviously been there for quite some
time because the flesh had grown around it, deforming the wing. Even with his
deformity at the hands of humans, he was not angry or violent. Actually, he
didnÕt appear to have a temper at all, which is a trait that I deeply admire.
As an overemotional person, I hope to eventually emulate the manta rayÕs
demonstrated ability to send out love instead of hate in the face of adversity.
He also did not react to his trauma with
fear, as he did not shy away from us. In fact, manta rays are, Òeasily approached
by divers.Ó[10]
They even, Òsometimes seem to enjoy human contact. Some have been known to
investigate contact and return to a dive group repeatedly.Ó[11]
If I had experienced such distress from men, I would avoid humans with
contempt, but the manta ray did not hold a grudge or judge us based on the
actions of our peers. This ability to withhold fears and judgments that are
based in stereotypes is a trait that I value in my life and share with the
manta ray.
The manta rayÕs reserved, watchful
behavior has shown me other ways in which I could progress toward Òinnate
wisdom.Ó[12]
I
am often loud and overly extroverted. After studying manta rays, I am striving
to become more observant and a better listener. These are traits that would
condition me as both a better friend and leader. I was further mystified by the manta rayÕs sense of
contentment with the world. His serenity calmed me, and for those few minutes
that I was graced by the manta rayÕs presence, I felt at peace. I had nothing
to do and nowhere to be. I was able to simply swim and observe the splendor of
the world around me.
I have experienced that immense
tranquility very few times in my life. I am often compared to the energizer bunny;
I keep going and going and going without slowing down to focus on the present. Reflecting
on my life thus far, I realize that I have spent most of my time working
towards something, trying to get there as fast as possible. In high school I worked myself half to
death taking AP classes while still spending an astronomical amount of time on
extracurriculars. I had hopes that my effort in high school would make my life
in college easier. I came to college with thirty-three hours of credit but did
not slow my pace. I took fifteen hours every semester because it never occurred
to me to take a light course load; a willingness to take it easy is just not
part of my personality. I am now graduating early, but as I reflect on the last
two years, I would have rather graduated on time and taken college slowly,
enjoying experiences as they came to me. This is the reason that the manta ray appeared
to me. I understand now that I should to take my time with things and enjoy the
present. Like the manta ray somersaults back to columns of plankton and lingers
there, I should pause and enjoy pleasurable moments instead of pushing on to
what is next.
Not only should I apply this to my own
personal life, but to my interactions with others as well, since the manta ray
embodies traits that I lack as a leader. To grow as a leader, I should focus on
slowly moving toward harmony and peace rather than rapidly working for perfection.
The manta ray can teach me to be calm and forward-focused. When I make mistakes
in my frantic rush, I become incredibly upset with myself, especially when
people are depending on me. I dwell for days on what I did wrong, which makes
me want to work even harder and more fervently. This is unhealthy and uncharacteristic
of the manta ray. However, the manta ray does not turn around and wallow in
water already passed, and my journey as a leader should reflect this. As manta
ray, I will keep going forward, but slowly, serenely, and without judgment or
anger. I will not look back with regret, but instead I will enjoy the present and
the thrill of the unknown future.
Total Word Count: 1964
Total word Count without quotations: 1899
URL: https://courses.utexas.edu/webapps/portal/frameset.jsp
Images:
Figure
1: Manta ray
somersaulting, RobinÕs Red Bottom, September, 12, 2012,
http://robinsredbottom.blogspot.com/?zx=f157bb9602779304.
Figure 2: In my
natural habitat, David L. Dinsmore, 2007
Figure 3 & 4: The
actual manta ray I saw, David L. Dinsmore, 2008
[1]
Manta rays can only move forward.
Manta Trust, ÒMantas at a Glance,Ó 2012, accessed September
26, 2012, http://www.mantatrust.org/about-mantas/mantas-at-a-glance/.
[2]
In the only observed manta ray birth that was not induced by stress, the
pregnant manta ray rubbed her belly against the ground, rose in the water, and
ejected the manta ray pup with its wings rolled up.
Rich Weiss, ÒDeath of Manta Ray Sheds New Light on
Species," The Washington Post,
July 2, 2007, accessed September 26, 2012,
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/07/01/AR2007070100765.html.
[3]
The
Hawaii Association for Marine Education and Research, Inc., ÒManta Rays,Ó 2011,
accessed September 26, 2012, http://www.hamerhawaii.com/Main%20Web%20Pages/Education/Marine%20Life/Rays/
manta_rays.htm#Top, (hereafter cited as The Hawaii
Association).
[4]
ÒMantas are occasionally observed leaping partially or
completely out of the water; sometimes one after the other. The purpose of this
behavior is unclear.Ó
The Hawaii Association.
[5]
Manta rays Òsometimes will swim
in repeated somersaults through a dense patch of plankton.Ó The Hawaii
Association.
[6]
Ted Andrews, Ò
Animal-Speak,Ó in Animal Humanities, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin, Texas:
2012), 455
[7]
Stefani Weiss,
ÒSpirit Animals,Ó in Animal Humanities, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin, Texas:
2012), 463.
[8]
Anne-Marie
Kitchen-Wheeler, "Visual identification of individual manta ray (Manta
alfredi) in the Maldives Islands, Western Indian Ocean," Marine Biology
Research 4, 6, no. 4: 351-363, Academic
Search Complete, EBSCOhost, (2010), accessed September 27, 2012.
[9]
The Little Mermaid, DVD, Directed by Rom Clements, Walt Disney Home Video, 1989.
[10]
Peter R. Last et al., Sharks and Rays of Borneo (Collingwood, VIC: Csiro Publishing,
2010), 257.
[11]
Leighton Taylor et al., Sharks and Rays, (McMahons Point, NSW: Weldon Owen Pty Limited,
1997), 72.
[12]
ÒSpirit Animals,Ó 463.