I was recently in Los Angeles and decided to take a break and walk along the beach in Santa Monica. The minute I stuck my feet on the wide sandy beach, Some hippie guy pushing his child in a stroller on a nearby walkway smiled as he passed and offered, “Have a nice day. Don’t forget to see the dolphins.”
I’d been to that beach so many times over the years. There were no wild dolphins there. Too many people. Too close to shore. Sometimes LSD trips take you to new vistas.
So I continued toward the water where people cavorted in the waves or sunbathed on the sand. Wait. Was that something moving in the waves out there? Too far for surfers. Maybe small fishing boats?
I stopped dead in my tracks at the ocean edge. There, sun glinting off their arched bodies was a pod of wild dolphins performing their natural acrobatic water ballet while they swam parallel to the distant shoreline. I looked at the people on and near the beach. No one seemed to notice them. Was I hallucinating? Catching a contact LSD high? No. They were real and swimming out there in plain sight. Wild dolphins just out of reach.
Not for long.
Could I psychically contact wild dolphins? There was only one way to find out. I started to telepathically call them to come closer. Gently I repeatedly called out to them and watched.
Nothing happened…until all the dolphins in the pod changed direction. They were no longer swimming parallel to the shoreline. They were playfully arching and swimming straight toward me.
I started to panic. What would happen if they came really close and the people on the beach saw them? They might scare them, disturb their frolic and freedom. What would the lifeguards do? Not wanting to find out, I quickly sent the dolphins a message to swim away.
Within moments, the whole pod turned and headed out to sea. Everyone continued whatever they were doing without notice of our grand experiment. Thankful, but pleased, I continued my walk with no one, except the dolphins, the wiser.