Sea World As an Exercise in Mindfulness

Kennin and I petting a dolphin at Sea World.

Sea World was by far my favorite place in the world when I was young. A place where you can watch these beautiful whales leap out of the water and interact with humans as if they were as friendly as my dog was unfathomable. I loved all the shows in which human situations are acted out through sea animals, such as the mystery show starring a walrus.

As a teenager and college student, I went back to Sea World to ride the roller coasters, sit in the shark exhibit for an hour, and feel like a kid again. Over the Labor Day weekend, however, I revisited Sea World as a mentor for a five year old and two year old child. This entire summer has heavily consisted of me getting over my fear of children by interacting with my brother's girlfriend's children, and I've been amazed at just how curious and interested they are in the wonders of the world.

Kennin, the aforementioned five year old who watched Shark Week with me, loves sharks. She asked me to teach her about all the fish around us, so I took her hand and started pointing out sharks, talking about their behavior and having her identify them when they swam by. Sure enough, she started to remember them by their features and even responded to another visitor's spoken out loud thought as to what kind of shark had the giant teeth. We walked around the aquarium and looked at different fish, and she was constantly listening to everything I said, watching the fish, and asking things like, "Are they friends?" or "Where does he live?" Her being engaged in stopping and watching the fish instead of passing by inspired other kids and their parents to do the same; at some points, I was nearly lecturing a group of visitors about what they were really looking at in the tanks.

I don't think a lot of people really contemplate what it is they are experiencing when they look at a fish tank in an aquarium, feed a dolphin at Sea World or watch a Shamu show. This mindfulness makes trips to Sea World not only fun, but it helps to better grasp just how beautiful the world really is and how great it is that companies like Sea World use their resources to save wild animals and show the public what they share the planet with. Perhaps it is mindfulness that allows us to have that curiosity we value in children. If we can constantly remind our selves to really think about where we are, who we are, what we are doing and what we are looking at, we can see the world as brightly as we used to when we were kids.

Jellyfish--Vixens of the Sea

Jellyfish are probably some of the most bizarre, beautiful, and often annoying creatures of the ocean. My good friend and former roommate Courtney could sit, stare and sketch jellyfish while at the Aquarium for hours, and even has jellyfish tattoos on the side of her stomach. Because of her appreciation for these pretty critters, I dedicate this post to her.

Why are jellyfish so alluring despite their tendency to have painful greetings? Well, look at them. How many creatures do you know that are translucent and near transparent? Different jellyfish species are between 95 and 98% water, whereas us humans are a little over 60%. Another reason jellyfish are so pretty is probably because they are radically symmetrical, meaning both halves from the central axis mirror each other. Jellyfish do not have a brain, a respiratory system (breathing), a circulatory system (cycling materials, especially blood, around our body), or even an excretory system (filtering nutrients and getting rid of waste). Because of this, jellyfish actually go to the bathroom out of the same "hole" they take in food from.

Jellyfish don't even look like they should be alive with all their simplicities. Yet jellyfish, as a species, are older than the dinosaurs, and there's even thought to be an immortal jellyfish found (Thank you Christopher for showing me the article!). With so little inside their bodies, jellyfish must be pretty amazing at what they do in order to stay alive so long. Their "senses" consist of a neural net, "eyespots" detecting light from dark, and chemo-sensory pits that help detect prey. Jellyfish never stop growing, unlike us who typically tend to stop growing in high school after we've gone through sexual maturity. Without a respiratory system, jellyfish simply "breathe" in oxygen through their membrane-like skin. In order to swim, they use "jet propulsion" by taking in water through a muscular bell and shooting it out behind them. They aren't even fish, technically, because they don't have gills. Many scientists prefer to call them "sea jellies."

With no real internal organs or complex systems, you may wonder how jellyfish even reproduce. Well, jellyfish can reproduce sexually and asexually. Jellyfish are either born male or female, and each sex develops its eggs or sperm inside a pouch on their body. One fine day, the jellyfish will "throw up" their goods, and the goods pass from the stomach through the mouth. The eggs that stick to the lady jelly's mouth will be fertilized. The fertilized eggs become a planula, which is carried around ocean currents for quite some time until it is able to attach onto a surface and develop into a polyp. The polyp undergoes budding, which is like an asexual development of another polyp, and these polyps lead to the medusa stage. Some polyps actually split open through fission in order to become a medusa. Pretty weird, huh?

One jellyfish in particular, the box jellyfish, is known as the sea wasp. This little baby has 64 anuses (I'm serious) and 24 eyes, though they still can't really see. The box jellyfish is by far the most poisonous jellyfish, and it's sting can kill in 3 minutes. The amount of venom in one box jellyfish can kill up to 60 people. What's even more scary is that it can move at 2 meters.... per second. That means it would be pretty difficult to be stung and get back to shore. Thus, more people die from jellyfish attacks than sharks. Australians are well aware of this jellyfish, and they actually go swimming in regions where the jellyfish are located with women's pantyhose covering their arms and legs because the tentacles' little poison dart like nematocysts won't penetrate it. Additionally, their tentacles are near invisible and are pretty easy to get tangled up inside, which is why jellyfish are so good at finding prey despite the fact that most of them use ocean currents to get around. Think about how incredible it is that something so simple in form is not only alive, but has so much power and potential. Here we are, humans fully capable of adapting for life on every continent and have all kinds of fancy organs and systems, but some little thing that poops out of its mouth can cause us to stop breathing. It's pretty humbling to say the least.

Now that I've terrified you, know that most jellyfish species are not capable of killing you. A lot of jellyfish don't actually cause pain to humans because their stings are so subtle. Most of the ones who can noticeably sting you will not actually kill you, though they might make you whiney, and jellyfish are never aggressive. Jellyfish are just another one of the creatures on this planet that are beyond anything we could dream up, and reminds us that fact can indeed be strange than fiction.

Reflections on "Martian Child"

As I mentioned before with Avatar, my step dad and I love watching science fiction films together. My mom, however, is particularly restless and cannot sit through a movie. This trait made our only family trip to the theatre, that I can remember, to see Lord of the Rings particularly painful for her.

There's a film "Martian Child" that employs themes of science fiction, comedy and drama. The premise is that John Cusack's application for adoption finally comes through after his wife has passed, and he's not sure he has it in him to be a good parent. The child chosen for him by the adoption agent is a ten year-old boy who is convinced he's an alien from Mars and is thus why he stays under a box (as the sun is too bright) and wears a weight belt tying him to the ground made out of batteries. As John Cusack plays a famous science fiction writer, the pairing of these two is particularly amusing.

The three of us sat down to watch the film, and I'm glad we did. (My mom didn't get up once) There's a scene in particular when John Cusack is trying to talk to his new son. The kid's Andy Warhol social skills are making Cusack look like an inadequate parent to the adoption agency, especially when the kid steals from others in order to conduct his "mission" of documenting human life.

Here's what Cusack says: Dennis, can I just say one last thing about Mars? - which may be strange coming from a Science-Fiction writer - But right now, you and me here, put together entirely of atoms, sitting on this round rock with a core of liquid iron, held down by this force that seems to trouble you, called gravity, all the while spinning around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour and whizzing through the Milky Way at 600,000 miles an hour in a universe that very well may be chasing its own tail at the speed of light; And amidst all this frantic activity, fully cognisant of our own eminent demise - which is our own pretty way of saying we all know we're gonna die - We reach out to one another. Sometimes for the sake of entity, sometimes for reasons you're not old enough to understand yet, but a lot of the time we just reach out and expect nothing in return. Isn't that strange? Isn't that weird? Isn't that weird enough? The heck do ya need to be from Mars for?

It's surprising when John Cusack can express just how beautiful it is that we are pretty much parasites tearing up our very small corner of the universe, and our lives are pretty meaningless when you compare it to the rest of existence. For us to be alive amid all of this order and chaos is extraordinary enough. I guess when I become upset, lacking in confidence or defeated, I could think about how lucky I am to be a part of all of this--especially since I have no idea how to define "this" with so much out there I will never learn about. Our planet is a very small part of galaxy, and our galaxy is a part of an unknown array of other galaxies in some universe that is apparently constantly expanding. Even on our own planet, we have a lot to learn. There are species we haven't given names to, life in the ocean we are incapable of seeing because of our bodies' inability to withstand the ocean's pressure, ecological phenomenons and animal behavior we can't quite explain. Think about how much you know about the very place you life: how many plants can you name? what do you know about your own body? how does a computer work--really? It's overwhelming how limited we are despite our vast capabilities.