Five minutes before our plane landed on the Big Island, Drew and I started feeling waves of love coming from the land. We knew that the energy of this area was powerful and known as a healing center, but we weren’t expecting to feel it while still airborne ... When we got there, we immediately contacted our friend, Meg Sibley. Meg is a master at healing with sound and does “sound pods” where community can come together to set intentions with the power of the voice. She also has a very special connection with dolphins and we knew that she would help us see them in a way that was respectful not only to the dolphins but also to the spirit of the local culture of the island.
She prepped us by telling us to make sure we made eye contact with them and just ask for them to come play. “They will circle you and approach you if they want to play.” And she went further to tell us that if we see their tail going away from us, then that means they’re done for the moment. Don’t chase them.” Smart advice given the fact that dolphins are one of the fastest creatures in water (twenty miles per hour). If they want to play, you can offer them a leaf and they’ll take it and often carry it on their tail, then throw it to their nose, even leaving it for you, only to sweep it up as you reach out for it.
Drew and I were terribly excited about the possibility of communing with these playful creatures, and when we swam out to meet them, we immediately noticed how some people would aggressively pursue them, only to be faced with bubbles, and then others would simply wait and have the dolphins encircle them.
You can probably gather from the fact that I’m telling you this story it has something to do with the Beloved. Indeed, what struck me most was that learning how to attract dolphins is very similar to attracting love. Imagine a scene from some kung-fu movie where the master says, “If you can get dolphin to come and snatch leaf from hand, then you can have the love of your life.”
And it’s not hard, from what I learned, but it requires a level of detachment as well as trust in divine timing. The first day, we were fortunate to swim with them right away, and then for the next two days, they were nowhere to be found. What struck me most was the pain some avid dolphin fans felt when they didn’t get a chance to swim with them. The language they used sounded similar to people in withdrawal from some sort of addiction. People spoke of the dolphins being “fickle,” a “tease,” of being able to “take a hint” when they no longer wanted to play.
