How Do I Not Make Eye Contact with That Guy?

Behind the yellow safety tape and barriers of hospital cages, I’m in their presence, and they fully acknowledge me. They make me feel like I'm the only person in the room. However, we’re outdoors. And they’re seals.

I’m aware of the seal's circus-performer history, but the full power of their personalities still surprises me every time. They say so much with their barks, flipping, scooting, and instinctive efforts to make eye contact.

It's almost impossible not to laugh and grin and egg them on.

But you listen to the trainers and vets who command you not to make eye contact. These seals will go back into the wild when they have completed their healing as patients of the hospital; overfamiliarity with humans could hinder their survival in the wild.

When the seals arrive at the hospital they are near death. They have to learn how to eat again, a process that begins with the "Fish Smoothie."

This is where I and my teenage daughter come in. As new Volunteers, we were assigned to the Fish Kitchen, washing and sterilizing the tubing, bowls, massive syringes, buckets, and knives.

Fish Kitchen Volunteers move up the ranks, and are soon allowed to sort fish and eventually make Fish Smoothies. That's what we did:

Critical in this process is everyone's favorite blender, Vitamix, the familiar sound whirring all day in the Fish Kitchen.

And no, it's not gross. Maybe at first there's some hesitation, but eventually you get used to the sanitary process, the marine smell, the healthy energy of the environment, and the productive effects of the strange smoothies.

A few weeks into their medical treatments, the big-eyed charmers are soon eating their herring, whole.

Depending on how well their hospital stay goes, a release date is scheduled and they are accompanied to the beach by amazing participants who represent the human species well.

Seeing firsthand the great need for human connection with the wild ocean to not only refrain from being destructive, but to make strong effort to be rehabilitative - this was a gift!

It completely changed me.

The humans respecting the lives and the wild of the seals.

Made big waves.

For my life up until this, I had been callous and flippant, regarding the wild within me. Like starved seals washing up on beaches, I was sick.

My wild inside needed rehabilitated.

Human behavior and culture was impinging on the seals, as was the rampant consumerism, polluting and toxic to the human soul.

It became essential to withdraw from the toxic culture, nourish on smoothies, learn how to "just be" again, like the seals.

Gradually, I found that the wild inside of me was a delicate place from which to meditate, to resonate with the universe, to hear the cries of all animals and humans. A place from which to make new decisions in a new earth, for survival of many animal species, including my own.

So I stopped making eye contact with the culture.

Went within and chose rehabilitation for one member of the species: me.

Briefly, how did this stack up in practical life, in the world of money?

Well, the year my daughter turned 18, I sold nearly all of my belongings, dramatically lowered expenses, and quit my corporate job. I moved into an art studio in West Marin County, 25 minutes from my favorite beach.

Currently, I work for a solar nonprofit, volunteer, sell an occasional piece of artwork, and am saving for my very own energy-efficient tiny container home, on shared land with like minds. Preferably off-grid.

Wild.

Often I see the marine mammals poking their heads up and I go ahead and make eye contact with them from the shore. I smile and wave.

After all, they're healthy out there, wild.

They gave me hope in both their species and my own.

I'm getting healthier every day as I choose wild.