Move like a jellyfish

Move like a jellyfish

When you move like a jellyfish

Rhythm don’t mean nothing

You go with the flow

You don’t stop

Bubble Toes. Jack Johnson

It’s surprising what you see when you start looking. Everyday things that have been there all along, yet you never noticed them. The small things in life. The beautiful simple things. Like the blue bottle jellyfish washed up on the shore.

With being sick the last two weeks and self-isolating as a precaution until test results would clear me, I spent a lot of time at the beach of my little hometown away from home. Sunrises only, to make sure I kept a safe distance from people around me. Always at the same time, never the same sight: morning haze slowly lifting, making room for the pale sunlight. Dark storm clouds and wild waves crashing ashore. The red sun rising, staring at me like the Eye of Mordor, setting the beach and my heart and soul on fire. Ocean-swimmers, beach-runners, sunrise-watchers, downward-doggers. And me on my raggedy green bench.

I had travelled this country (sadly not as much as I had planned). Visited cities and countrysides. Rolling green hills, vine covered slopes, red sandy dunes, black ancient rock. Saw hobbit holes and majestic fjords, sacred rocks and blue mountains, charming vineyards and snow covered hills. So busy travelling that I never took the time to really see the small things around me. A tiny star shaped shell in the red grainy sand. An ocean of tough little flowers covering the dunes. Sticks and stones and sea grass washed ashore. 

And among all the beach wrack, tiny blue balloons like laundry pods covering the ground, pushed onshore but strong winds, their tiny translucent sail having carried them the wrong way. Blue bottles. Small blue jellyfish, that are actually not jellyfish, but get-togethers of polyps that stick together to survive. There’s the blue tinged gas-filled bladder, that keeps this little creature afloat in the water. The sail to keep it on the right course. Long wiry tentacles that catch tiny fish by poisoning them and pulling them up to the digestive part. On their own, none of these parts could survive. Together they create a symbiotic relationship that requires each polyp to work together and thus allows them to function like one animal. Teamwork in a tiny blue bubble.

Maybe I’ve been spending too much time on my own lately, pondering the mysteries of life. Maybe I’m just losing my mind! Going troppo in iso! But amidst all the chaos around me, the uncertainty, the constant changes of everyday life, the increasing level of isolation, this small blue jellyfish (I know, not actually a jellyfish – but try saying siphonophore three times fast!) seems to say it all. In these crazy times, you can’t do it alone!

My little beachtown – the world shutting down in a nutshell. Or better: a seashell. On Monday pubs and clubs. On Tuesday my school moves off-campus (aka online learning). On Wednesday hairdressers and nail salons (I wonder what they will call the grey stripe slowly forming at my roots of my hair  – Corona stripe?). Thursday my beloved cafes, home of the infamous weird long black. On Friday restaurants. Every morning the streets seem more empty, more storefronts shut, more signs in the windows: Closed. Stay safe! See you soon? 

What keeps us afloat, steers us in the right direction, feeds us and helps us function like a blue bell are the others around us. Our friends and family, our colleagues and community. The friend that leaves food for you on your patio table. The colleague that reaches out to you. Your family that makes you skype though you hate it (but secretly love it). My students video chatting with me (well, really more video giggling, but they are learning). Your community, that knows how you take your coffee. That greets you every morning without knowing your name. That supports each other by buying local and staying close from a distance.

With every flight that gets cancelled, and every trip that gets postponed, it feels like I am losing  out more and more on what was to be the time of my life, a year of living the dream. The travels and experiences, the night-outs and get-togethers, the laughter. Yet, what keeps me afloat on this ocean of turbulent times, steers me the right way, keeps nurturing me,  are these good times and the memories of them. I’m not done with my story yet, but I am getting pretty close, sailing along with my long reaching tentacles floating in the sea.