Manta Magic

I am in love with a fish.

We meet in the ocean nearly every day.

And we dance.

My heart flutters at the sight of her…the velvety brown of her back, the scar from a parasitic sucker fish she has recently lost, the white markings like brushstrokes upon the dark brown, curving into a heart… 

Today we meet about three quarters of a mile from shore, near the cliff. She’s about 40 feet down—too far for me to dive—so I hover above her and coo. 

I catch her eye, and her wingtips flutter, as if in response to my smile.

She has learned the limitations of my aquatic abilities—I am slow. I cannot dive deep, nor stay underwater for long—and she meets them all with grace, gently soaring up to the surface to meet me. 

When she’s about 10 feet down, I begin to dive. She adjusts her path so we meet belly to belly just a few feet below the surface. Her white underside also has the image of a heart, this one made of soft brown spots, as if it were gently sponge painted with a cup of strong tea. 

We glide together until the buoyancy in my lungs carries me to the surface. She does a twisting somersault and flies down towards the ocean floor, then swoops up, arcing to the left until she is directly underneath me. 

Mere inches separate me from this otherworldly creature, and while my mind is racing with excitement, my body has its own response…

My arms outstretch themselves, and begin to pulse in time with the manta’s wingbeats. My fingers flutter like her wingtips. And I feel my chest open, my heart stretching to meet the friendship and trust this being is offering me.

Manta rays have no defense other than to flee. They have no teeth, no stinging barb at the end of their tails, no powerful muscle mass with which to attack or defend. And yet, my winged companion is so close I could kiss her.

There is no hesitation in her movements. No caution. Only love.

And it’s catching. 

As my arms extend to my full wingspan, my breathing deepens and the joy from my heart feels as if it’s flowing through my veins and out my fingertips. I can almost see the wispy lines, like strands of spider silk, reaching out.

I follow their path and realize they are showing me the connections. Connections from me to everything else—the manta, the ocean, the cliff that forms the north side of the bay…

It’s as if they’re reminding me once again that I’m not alone. I’m not the solitary, isolated creature I so often think I am. 

As if to punctuate my lesson, the manta flies upward through the water towards me, then somersaults, rotates sideways, and comes nearly to the surface, looking me right in eye.

I giggle.

And then she dives down again, beckoning me to follow.

I take a deep breath, point myself down, and do a somersaulting dive to meet my friend. 

Her eyes smile, and she tips her left wing so I can once again see the heart on her belly.

And as I glide next to her, feeling the peace penetrate my entire being, I hear….

Be.
Just be.
Just be with me.

Those are the same words I’ve heard from my son Felix nearly every day since he could talk.

Just be with me.

Beingness is such an elusive word. It’s often referenced in contrast to doing, which is something we humans are much more comfortable with.

But what the manta and Felix are pointing to isn’t necessarily a state of not doing. They’re not asking me to sit silent and motionless. Or to get into some exalted state.

Beingness doesn’t exclude action, or require enlightenment. 

But it does require you to show up. To put away your distracting devices, thoughts, and judgments. And to take it all in, whatever it may be in the moment. 

When I hear just be with me from my son, it’s often a plea for me to put my book down. A reminder that whatever story I’m engrossed in will be waiting for me after Felix and I have had our time together.

Today, as I hear those words from the manta, I put my camera away. I stop trying to capture the moment so I can relive it later. And I simply live it now. 

I see more deeply into her eyes, and sense the intelligence looking back at me. I feel the friendship she’s extending to me. 

What an honor.

Who is this gorgeous being? I wonder to myself. 

She seems to sense my query, and responds by coming even closer.

Our bond strengthens. My smile widens, breaking the seal my snorkel mask makes with my face, and water rushes in, blurring my vision. 

But I don’t care. In this moment, my heart can see more clearly than my eyes ever have.