The exuberance, grace, power, speed and apparent desire just to play, demonstrated by these magnificent creatures was magnetic.
And it was extraordinary to witness the animated pleasure that watching them brought out in everyone who was lucky enough to see them.
It was a bodily reminder and wake-up call of the power of simply standing in joy. People, young and old, were literally shrieking and jumping around in delight. Spirits were being lifted. These encounters remind us of life’s fleeting beauty.
Being part of the crowd was a classic example of the concept of ‘limbic resonance’. Limbic resonance is the process by which individuals influence and harmonize each other's emotional states via non-verbal cues, guided by activity within the limbic system.
This mechanism forms the basis of empathy, emotional bonding and shared regulation, enabling people to experience a deep sense of mutual attunement.
A sense of being on the same wavelength. A sense of ‘vibeing’ with each other. There was a distinct coming together of strangers having a common experience.
And the dolphins definitely appeared to be part of the emotional attunement.
Why do moments like these: rainbows appearing after a storm, the electric glow of phosphorescence in the water, shooting stars streaking across the night sky or whales cruising down the coast, stir something so profound in our souls?
Perhaps it is their ephemeral nature, the fact that they cannot be predicted, controlled, or held.
As Lao Tzu, the foundational figure of Daoism, wrote in the Tao Te Ching, “Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality.”
These unplanned moments remind us that life’s greatest joys often arise when we surrender our compulsion to manage every outcome.
In Zen Buddhism, there is an emphasis on the concept of shoshin or “beginner’s mind,” which invites us to approach each experience as if seeing it for the first time, free of expectation or preconception.
Watching dolphins, or witnessing a rainbow, calls us to this state of open awareness. We are not striving or grasping, we are simply there, fully present.
Zen master Shunryu Suzuki wrote, “If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything, open to everything.” It is this openness that allows ephemeral moments to flood us with awe and joy.
The Buddhist concept of anicca (impermanence) teaches that all things are transient. This recognition is not meant to induce sadness but to deepen our appreciation of the present.
Just as cherry blossoms in Japanese culture are celebrated precisely because they bloom so briefly, ephemeral moments remind us to treasure what cannot last.
In embracing impermanence, we stop clinging and instead let life flow through us like water, just as the Daoist philosophy advises in the Tao Te Ching: “Be like water, which benefits all things, and does not contend.”
The author’s annica tattoo (ironic, right?!)
Western thought, too, has grappled with the power of moments that exceed our control. The Romantic poets, such as Wordsworth and Keats, celebrated the sublime - experiences of beauty and grandeur that evoke awe precisely because they transcend the human will.
Wordsworth described moments of sudden joy and awe in nature as “spots of time” that nourish the spirit.
These encounters, unplanned and deeply felt, remind us of our smallness within the vastness of existence, yet simultaneously affirm our connection to it.
Humanist philosopher cartoonist Michael Leunig talks about being content with the ‘scraps’ that life offers us. It is about adjusting our horizons and reducing the pain and anxiety of desire.
SOURCE: The Age, March 2015.
The Danish philosopher Kierkegaard argued that anxiety often arises from our attempts to impose control and certainty on life’s unpredictable flow.
True joy, he suggested, is found not in mastery but in surrender - an attitude echoed in Christian mysticism.
Meister Eckhart, the medieval German theologian, wrote, “The soul does not grow by addition but by subtraction.” When we let go of striving and open ourselves to grace, moments of divine beauty can reach us. He was the pre-cursor to Marie Kondo!
Why do planned, anticipated events often leave us feeling flat compared to these spontaneous flashes of wonder?
When we pin our happiness to expectation, we risk disappointment because life rarely conforms to our imagined ideals. The Stoic philosophers of ancient Greece and Rome, like Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, taught that much of our suffering comes from our desire to control what is beyond us.
Marcus Aurelius wrote in his Meditations: “The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it.” Instead of forcing joy, we are invited to notice and accept what unfolds naturally.
Ephemeral moments - like dolphins surfacing without warning - are free of this burden. They arrive unexpectedly, bypassing expectation and gifting us pure presence.
In these moments, we do not think, “This will bring me joy.” We simply feel joy, because the experience arises from the world’s own mystery, not our own contrivance.
Many spiritual traditions teach that we must cultivate awareness and intuition to truly see the beauty of life. The Sufi poet Rumi writes, “Try to accept the changing seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the changing seasons that pass over the fields.”
This means being attuned not only to the outer world but also to the inner rhythms of our own spirit. When we slow down and turn our attention inward, we create space to recognise the wonders that appear without warning.
Psychologists talk about the impact that being in a rush has on our body chemistry. The stress and reaction hormones cortisol and adrenaline are released when we are rushing.
These bring us into the fight/flight/freeze mode which is a brilliant survival mechanism when we are truly under threat, however, it is particularly unhelpful when we are simply trying to get out of the house in the morning or finishing off an assignment or trying to manage multiple engagements.
It brings us into a state of stress and a complete lack of presence. It also dampens our intuition and our creativity which removes a sense of awareness, a sense of joy and a sense of being in charge of our own destiny.
In Hindu philosophy, there is the concept of darshan, the sacred act of seeing and being seen by the divine in all things.
To witness a fleeting moment of beauty, a dolphin’s leap, a sudden rainbow, can be an act of darshan when we recognise the sacredness of what we see.
However, if we are constantly focussed and rushing and distracted, we do not allow ourselves the opportunity for such a feeling. Had this crowd of people been at the office rather than the beach…!
Similarly, Indigenous spiritual traditions often speak of living in deep relationship with the natural world, honouring its rhythms rather than trying to dominate them.
These beliefs suggest that wonder arises when we move in harmony with the larger forces of life, trusting what we cannot control. The aboriginal concept of Dadirii is described as ‘an inner quiet, a still awareness, waiting, deep listening.’
A listening and awareness of the land, the sea, the sky, the animals and also each other.
In our modern, hyper-connected world, where experiences are often curated, shared and consumed through screens, the raw, unfiltered magic of real-life moments feels increasingly precious.
Technology tempts us to believe we can capture or replicate every feeling through photographs or videos. Yet something is lost in that attempt.
As the Taoist sage Chuang Tzu warned, “Happiness is the absence of the striving for happiness.” By trying to pin down joy, we risk missing the essence of the moment.
Instead, when we fully immerse ourselves, watching the dolphins without reaching for a phone, standing still in awe of a shooting star, we step out of the realm of control and into presence.
These moments of unmediated experience remind us that life is not a performance but a mystery to be lived.
These ephemeral encounters, unexpected moments of natural beauty, are more than pleasant diversions, they can be profound spiritual teachers. They invite us to experience gratitude not as a forced exercise but as a spontaneous response to grace.
The Christian mystic Brother David Steindl-Rast writes, “It is not happiness that makes us grateful. It’s gratefulness that makes us happy.”
When we meet life with openness, even fleeting experiences can nourish our inner life, becoming protective factors against despair and disconnection.
From a psychological perspective, these experiences align with what Hungarian-American psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls flow, moments of deep immersion and contentment.
Yet the difference here is that we do not “enter” these states by effort; rather, they come to us when we are receptive.
Flow is the state of deep connection with intuition which leads to a seemingly effortless connection with one’s actions and being in tune with our greatest abilities.
Sportspeople, artists, musicians, surgeons and many others speak of occasionally finding themselves in this state.
How, then, do we invite more of these moments into our lives? The answer lies in practicing awareness and letting go of the illusion of control.
In both Eastern meditation traditions and Western contemplative practices, stillness is a gateway to wonder. By slowing down, narrowing our focus, removing distraction, walking without purpose in nature, listening deeply or simply watching the horizon, we attune ourselves to the quiet gifts the world offers.
In Daoism, this is known as wu wei, often translated as “non-doing” or effortless action. It does not mean laziness but an alignment with the natural flow of life.
When we stop trying to chase or manufacture joy, joy finds us.
Moments like dolphins playing in the surf, remind us that life’s beauty is neither planned nor possessed. These flashes of grace arise from the interplay of time, nature, and chance.
Both Eastern and Western traditions urge us to relinquish our grip on control and to awaken our awareness to the present.
Whether it is through the Daoist acceptance of life’s flow, the Zen practice of beginner’s mind, the Stoic surrender to what is, or the mystical embrace of divine presence, we are called to recognise that the majesty of life unfolds most vividly when we step back and allow it.
