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The
Lesson of the Whales by
Richard and Linda Eyre
Editors’
Note: This is lesson 4 in the Nurturing series.
Allegory
One year, partly
because of our teenage son Noah’s interest in marine biology and
partly because of where we happened to be traveling and lecturing
that year, the whole Eyre family seemed to get immersed in and
fascinated with humpback whales. Our first encounter was while
we were scuba diving at Molokini Island off the coast of Maui. I
(Richard) was with two of our sons (including Noah), and we were
about sixty feet down, just minding our own business, watching
schools of brightly-colored reef fish. Suddenly we heard (and
felt) the mysterious pulsing, echoing, squeaking, vibrating, harmonizing
song of the humpbacks. It was impossible to tell where they were
or how many there were or how close they were, but their song – and
their presence – was truly awesome. I looked into Noah’s
facemask to see if he was frightened and saw instead a wide-eyed
expression of wonder and excitement.
We stayed
down as long as our air supply would allow, just listening
and feeling strangely moved by the songs. There was an honesty and
an earnestness and a powerful beauty in their sound. They were
very loud at times, and seemed to have infinite variety, not
only of pitch, but of the emotion or mood they carried. The
whole experience lasted only fifteen or twenty minutes, but none
of us will ever forget it. There was real communication going
on there – a communication that carried all kinds of feelings. In
the summer of that same year we found ourselves on a cruise ship
in Alaska where we were presenting a lecture. One day, as we
stood on deck watching the blue ice of a glacier sheer off and
plunge into the sea, someone on the other side of the deck yelled, “Whale!” The
captain cut his engines and we sat still in the water and waited. Even
those who had watched whales for years said they’d never seen
such a show as we got that day. Five or six huge humpbacks began
to surface roll and breach and play within a few hundred feet
of the deck where we stood. The still surface would explode
as one of the fifty foot long, fifty ton giants would fly up
from the depths and twirl entirely out of the water before smashing
back with a splash that sent rolling waves that rocked our massive
ship. Noah ran down to a lower deck to be as close as possible
and actually got soaked from the splash of the closest breach
of all.
The on-board
biologist told us later that there were lots of theories about
why humpbacks jump and breach. Some think it removes crusted
barnacles from their sleek sides. But the most accepted theory
is the simplest one. They do it because it’s fun. They do it
to play and to show off to each other. The ship was equipped
with an underwater microphone so we could hear their songs which,
during this kind of play, were loud and excited and almost constant. They
seem to be applauding and approving of each other’s underwater
and above-water acrobatics.
Individual
humpbacks are easy to identify because they each have a completely
individual and unique white and black pattern on their fluke
(the huge, flat, perpendicular-to-their-body tail which they
flip up and flop over as they surface through a breathing roll). With
their fingerprint flukes to identify them, biologists have determined
how loyal and committed they are to their own pod or family and
how most of their extensive communication is between family members.
Their communication
allows them to engage in remarkable teamwork – a sort of whale-synergy
that seems to produce a kind of social enjoyment as well as the
practical benefit of more food. Two humpbacks from the same
family frequently swim down through the water in a synchronized
spiral, blowing constantly from their blowholes, to create a
cylinder of bubbles called a bubble net. Small fish and plankton
stay inside the bubble barricade as the two whales turn and swim
up faster than their bubbles rise – up through the bubble cylinder,
huge mouths wide open, eating all the fish entrapped there. The
efficiency of this “bubble net” technique is one of the things
that enables a mature humpback to eat one-and-a-half tons of
food per day.
The gentlest,
most tender and touching humpback song seems to be the one mothers
sing to guide and encourage their baby calves. Humpback babies
are born far below the surface and the first challenge of the
new mother is to lift and nudge her new child (with her nose)
to the surface where it can draw its first breath of air. Those
who have witnessed this nurturing act say they will never forget
the mother’s song that goes with it – a song of love and pride
and confidence.
There is a
wide variety of opinions about these massive animals, and particularly
about their wondrous songs. We read a lot of theories and educated
guesses and came up with a few of our own. We discovered that
Humpback Whales can communicate with each other through hundreds
of miles of ocean and that family groups or “pods” stay in virtually
constant communication – always knowing each other’s whereabouts
and status. We read opinions that the songs are most intense
and continuous when one family member is hurt or in some form
of stress or danger. We found that some biologists believe many
of their songs serve the purpose of encouraging each other and
of giving younger whales a constant reassurance of security and
a sense of identity and bonding with their own pod or family. And
we deduced that generally only one whale sings at a time. The
others listen and respond only when the first is finished. If
another pod member sings at the same time, it seems to take the
form of harmony, and of agreement and encouragement.
___________________
So what is
the lesson of the whales? It is, of course, the lesson of constant,
open, and emotionally honest communication. Real and committed
family communication avoids many potential problems and holds
the key to solving and resolving the problems that do exist. Positive
communication in a family is like an open gate that allows values
to be taught and joy to be shared and problems to be dealt with. When
the gate is closed, pressure builds and individuals become isolated.
Like the whales,
our families must strive to communicate almost constantly. The
channels need to be always open so teamwork and cooperation can
flourish.
Like the whales
much of that communication needs to be about approving and encouraging
and confidence-giving.
Like the whales,
the communication needs to be particularly intense and constant
in times of stress, danger, or difficulty.
Like the whales,
we should listen to each other rather than interrupting.
Like the whales,
our communication needs to involve loyalty and teamwork, building
trust and creating real family synergy.
Like the whales,
our communication has to be tailored for the individual. Each
child is as completely unique as a humpback’s fluke. One child
may need stern, disciplining communication while another needs
a far softer approach.
Like the whales,
we need to make our communication not a lecture but a song … a
song of honest interchange and mutual respect.
The
Lesson of the Geese Richard
and Linda, in many of their recent parenting lectures have been
emphasizing the importance of following our best natural instincts
as parents. Along those lines, they present several "natural lessons
from nature." One of these is "The Lesson of the Geese."
For more than
a quarter century, as they have written a dozen books and raised
nine children of their own, New York Times #1 best-selling authors
Linda and
Richard Eyre have tried to reach out to parents who really care
--who are willing to put in the effort to create family infrastructures
that fortify and safeguard their children and to undertake fun but
challenging and involving monthly programs to teach their children
values, responsibility, and "joy." More than 100,000 parents, worldwide,
have become members of what they call valuesparenting.com.
Their results, measured in the happiness and success of their children,
have been remarkable.
