“What fascinates you so much about dolphins?” asks one of the lovely participants on our current Dolphin Retreat in the Red Sea, Egypt. As we watch the grey mammals from the boat and get ready to join them in the water for a little playtime, I pause for a moment. “I'll gladly tell you once we're back out of the water.” Because the truth is: It's not that easy to put into words.
You see, there is an ancient legend told by the Chumash people. It says that long ago, people fell from a rainbow bridge into the sea while playing. Out of compassion, the goddess Hutash transformed them into dolphins. Perhaps that's why dolphins still seem to smile to this day.
At least I've never met a grumpy dolphin.
Some dolphins simply swim past. Especially when they're travelling in larger groups. But that doesn't automatically mean something is wrong with them—or with me. They simply have a different destination in that moment. A destination for themselves, not against me.
A bit like life itself. How often do we interpret something into another person's behavior?
Someone doesn't say hello. Someone doesn't reply to a message. Someone reacts differently than we'd hoped. And immediately we create a story around it. Usually not a very helpful one. Dolphins don't do that. They simply do what feels right to them in that moment. Maybe that's already the first lesson. Life is allowed to be easy. And that's exactly why I love these animals so much.
A few years ago, I experienced something that is still difficult for me to describe today. One dolphin that we've been meeting again and again for many years seemed to invite me into his family. Mother. Father. And child. They were taking their daytime nap near our boat.
So we kept slipping into the water and accompanying them for a while. In between, we were back on board, eating and resting. Yet something kept pulling me back into the water.
After filming almost every movement of the three of them, I eventually switched off my camera. And do you know what I thought in that moment? “I'd really love to just swim with you.” And then something beautiful happened. As if my thoughts had somehow arrived. At first, I swam alongside the three of them. Then they adjusted their speed to mine. And eventually, I wasn't just watching anymore—I was part of it. Mother. Child. Me. And the father. That was the order in which we swam. Quiet. Peaceful. Graceful. Together.
I can't fully explain why that moment touched me so deeply. What I do know is that at some point tears began rolling down my cheeks when I had to leave the water because our journey home was beginning. Not out of sadness. But because everything felt so perfect. For one brief moment, there was nothing to achieve. Nothing to prove. Nothing to optimize. There was only life. The moment. Being. The now.
As we headed back toward the harbor after six days at sea, the three dolphins accompanied us for quite a while. The little one kept leaping out of the water beside the boat. Almost as if he wanted to say goodbye. And do you know what's really amazing? At the beginning of this week, we met the family again. First the father. And eventually, he brought the others over. This time there was a new family member. The mother was swimming beside the now nearly grown-up child. And then there was a baby dolphin. I smiled. Because somehow it felt like meeting old friends again—friends proudly introducing the newest member of their family.
So what did I learn this week? Maybe a fulfilled life isn't about owning more, achieving more, or controlling more. Maybe it's simply about moments. Moments in which you completely forget who you're supposed to be. Moments in which you simply are. Full of joy. Full of wonder. Full of life. That's exactly why I love these animals so much. They remind me of that every single time. Life is meant to be enjoyed. As often as possible.
Because the beauty of nature, of people, and of our entire existence is far too precious to keep trading it for stress, worries, and constant striving while hoping that someday things will get better.
Maybe that's the secret of dolphins. They remind us how easy life can actually be. Or at least they remind me to embrace life exactly as it is right now—and to keep smiling while doing so.
Sending warm greetings from the Red Sea. And this week, maybe smile a little more. Not for anyone else. Just for yourself.
