Cuttlefish Arm-Waves & Threshold Intimacy

A Threshold Moment

What's a sign of opening? What can cuttlefish, cephalopods (so-named from the Greek roots "kephale" = "head" and "pod/pous" = "foot") known as the "chameleons of the sea," teach us about embodied cognition and communication? As it turns out, quite a lot if we read their signs.

Sensory Neuroscience researchers Sophie Cohen-Bodénès (Washington University, St. Louis) and Peter Neri (Ecole Normale Superieure, Paris) observed four distinct arm-wave signs of the Sepia officinalis and Sepia bandensis cuttlefish species, "Up," "Crown," "Side," and "Roll." These are "stereotyped arm movements consisting of long-lasting, expressive, and repeated sequences of undulations of the arms, which can be combined and expressed following specific patterns." This creative research method used video of cuttlefish to elicit arm-wave responses in live species. For example, live cuttlefish extend two arms upward while twisting the other six in response to videotaped cuttlefish making the same "Up" sign. Additionally, the arm-wave responses are "often combined with the expression of various chromatic body patterns and locomotor components, such as fin undulation/contraction (Figure 1)." *

Fig. 1 - The four arm wave signs in adult Sepia Officinalis (A–D) and juvenile Sepia (E–H) The “up” sign (A,E), most frequently expressed, involves extension of the first pair of arms in the upward direction and extension of the fourth arm pair, while the second and third arm pairs are twisted in the middle. When expressing the “side” sign (B,F), cuttlefish roll all arms to one or the other side of the body. In the “roll” sign (C,G), all arms are rolled under the head to change its shape and emphasize the eyes. Finally, the “crown” sign (D,H) involves a “spitting” movement with the arms arranged in the shape of a crown. Cuttlefish exhibit these wave signs in different behavioral contexts such as sitting (A,B,C) or swimming (B,G,H), often in combination with high-contrast skin patterns (black points in C, orange coloration with black spots in D) and contraction of the fins (C). * (Figure courtesy of Sophie Cohen-Bodénès, Peter Neri)

What do the signs mean? It's complicated.

Cohen-Bodénès thinks perhaps “Crown” – a kind of pyramid-shape formed with extended arms – is used to express unease or aversion. It may indicate that something has changed. "In further experiments, cuttlefish have backed away when doing the crown sign and have turned their bodies orange or sometimes black, behaviours Cohen-Bodénès thinks are associated with aversion. As communication goes, this might not sound very impressive, but it is surprising, given that cuttlefish are a solitary, evolutionarily ancient species."* 

In humans, embodied cognition cues are intricate and similarly evocative. We can generally read when a person's body language says, "Come hither..." or "Ouch!" or "Ewww!" Sometimes, we remain inscrutable. We can be expert at concealing signs of unease, attraction, or aversion until the last moment possible, a "threshold moment" that signals something significant is about to happen or change irrevocably. Why do we wait to show others our telltale signs, especially the ones who care about us, that something is momentous?

We're waiting for a threshold moment, a moment of intimacy.

Last Words of Wisdom (Image courtesy of Laura Weber)

Threshold moments are those final moments in a threshold or doorway when previously unspoken words come tumbling forth, knowing this might be the last chance to express our heart's gratitude, remorse, fear, wisdom, or deepest longing. They are intimate moments. Threshold moments are our last words, our ultimate words, the ones that carry a lot of meaning if we are leaving, or breathing our last breath. They encompass our pains, our hopes, our losses, our terrors, our loves. We speak them only when our courage kindles and all we can see is that the moment cannot pass without transparency and authenticity. If we are on the giving end, it might be terrifying or cathartic. If we are on the receiving end, it might be exhilarating or stupefying. Or both. Threshold moments resonate deeply within us for this reason. It might be the moment we hear, "I love you." "I'll miss you." "I want to give you this." "You mean the world to me."

Courtesy of Unsplash photographer Rapha Wilde

One thing we can learn is that our human bodies - microcosmic iterations of a global ecosystem of a vast, interdependent, and responsive matrix - will respond to threshold moments in telltale ways: accelerated cardio-respiratory rate, perspiration, pupil dilation, heightened sensory awareness, cortisol spikes, nervous tics or "tells." Our bodies exhibit an increased energy surge, a sure indicator that something of import is happening. Embodied cognition recognizes the integration of thought, knowledge, and meaning as the body responds to and engages the environment. We experience ourselves embedded in the web of life, not extraneous to it, as though we are passive observers.

While we are only beginning to learn about distinct cuttlefish signs, we have cultivated in-depth learning about human signs. Threshold intimacy is certainly one opportunity to communicate with depth and nuance. But those moments are few and fleeting. We can learn how to read human signs in every context if we let go of self-preoccupation and distraction and drop down into the potent present moment.

Nature-immersive practices can help us learn the skills necessary for mindfulness and presence. Shinrin-Yoku (forest bathing), natural sound therapy, aqua therapy, horticulture therapy, birding, Nature photography, journaling, poetry, and art such as Nature mandalas, are just a few ways to help us sharpen our sensory awareness, focus, and sustained attention. We don't always have to rely on threshold moments to reveal who we are, and who and what we most hold dear. We can also enter the aperture of the ordinary.

Be open. Pay attention. Be a sign.