LANZAROTE, THE CANARY ISLANDS—LESSONS FROM THE BLIND ALBINO CRABS

oday, lies the Jameos del Agua. It’s a collapsed lava tunnel turned into a spectacular experience that combines geology and art, envisioned and supported by local artist Cesar Manrique.

But the Jameos is also something more. The beautiful lagoon in the center of the site (seen behind me and George in photo 1) is home to one of the world’s most mysterious species: Munidopsis Polymorpha, the tiny blind, albino crabs that inhabit the bottom of the lagoon (see video 2—the shimmering white specks are the crabs).

These tiny creatures, which have lived in this lagoon for over 3,000 years, have made remarkable adaptations to compensate for their lack of vision and survive through the centuries. They have extremely acute hearing and pick up sensory perceptions with their antennae to communicate and gain information about their surroundings. Their tiny size (usually no more than three centimeters in length) reduces their energy requirements. And, they have a strong sense of touch.

As we drove away from that beautiful place today, I pondered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I could learn something from those blind albino crabs. And I decided that being more like a Munidopsis Polymorphus could have some real positives:

--I’d rely more on what I feel, rather than on what I see.

--I’d rely more on my personal antenna (my instinct and intuition) to protect me from danger and guide me to safety.

--I would stop wasting valuable energy trying to be bigger than I need to be.

--I’d employ my sense of touch more often in communicating—especially with the people I care deeply about.

I realize, of course, that I have to be patient with myself. After all, the blind albino crabs have had three millennia to develop these characteristics. I’ve had a handful of decades to do it, and I’m still very much a work in progress.

But it’s something to aspire to.

(factual data sourced from discoveringislascanarias.com)