Life Lessons from Lobsters
About eight years ago I was studying at university in Nova Scotia, a province on the East Coast of Canada that is best known for a giant explosion and really delicious seafood.
At the time, I had a friend who was dating a lobster trapper, and with that came a steady supply of fresh Atlantic lobster. I didn’t think much of these bizarre crustaceans — I simply dropped them in boiling water, smashed their carcasses with specialized tools, and dipped their insides into copious amounts of melted butter.
Life was good.
But recently, while watching Abraham J. Twerski ramble on about lobsters in this video, I realized a deeper wisdom exists beyond their decadent flesh. Yes, even arthropods can be brimming with life lessons.
What kinds of lessons, you ask? Well, to find that out, we must first take a journey into the life of a lobster.
The Life of a Lobster
Imagine being born. You open your eyes for the first time and instead of having soft, elastic, delicious-smelling baby skin, you realize you have a spikey, clunky, impermeable exoskeleton.
Now imagine going through the normal growth cycle of a human. Picture your organs, your bones, your muscles growing, and as they expand they begin to put pressure on your inflexible suit of armour. Envision the immense discomfort as your soft tissue runs out of room and forcefully presses against the restrictive container you are encased in.
Sounds awful, doesn’t it?
This is the life of a lobster. Thankfully, instead of literally exploding from the inside out (which would be a really fucked up, evolutionary), lobsters have mastered the art of escaping their old shells. This is accomplished through a process called ecdysis, which literally means “getting out” in Greek.
Because lobsters continually grow throughout their entire lives, a huge portion of their existence is devoted to preparing for and recovering from ecdysis. A typical lobster will go through this process dozens of times over the course of their life. After each cycle, the lobster comes out bigger, healthier, and totally rejuvenated.
The entire process of preparing for, going through, and recovering from ecdysis is called molding. During this time the lobster, shell-less and in a vulnerable state, finds somewhere safe to chill out and shed its former self. Molding is a necessary phenomenon for the lobster’s survival and, if done successfully, can extend its life to well over a century.
Pretty fucking cool, isn’t it?
But what does understanding the life cycle of a lobster have to do with being a better human being?
Reinvention = Life Extension
Lobsters are badasses at reinventing themselves. Not only will they do it dozens of times over their lives, but they’re also willing to go through some significant shit to make it happen.
Seriously, lobsters are fucking crazy — the molding process doesn’t only include their outer shell, but also, “…every anatomic feature that is rigid…including the teeth inside the stomach that grind food. The lobster must rip out the lining of its throat, stomach, and anus before it is free of the old shell. Some die trying.”
Lobsters are so down with reinvention they are willing to die trying.
As Twerski explains in the video linked above, lobsters shed their old shell when it becomes uncomfortable. They understand encountering discomfort means transformation is imminent.
Discomfort is a signal biologically encoded in the lobsters DNA, telling the lobster something needs to change. It does not shy away from the pain and become trapped in a shelled case of emotion. The ache is not something to be anaesthetized, it’s instead a catalyst for growth — a necessity to ensure the lobster lives a long, happy, seafaring life.
Ecdysis and Chill?
The lobster doesn’t just start ripping out its throat and asshole wherever it feels like along the ocean floor. Animals don’t live for centuries by exposing themselves to lazy predators looking for an easy meal. Clever lobsters know the greatest probability of surviving ecdysis is found somewhere undisturbed.
This is because the lobster understands deep, transformational work requires a degree of seclusion. Similar to the aesthetic who enters the monastery to reach enlightenment or the writer who holes himself up in a cabin to pen a masterpiece, the lobster realizes that reinvention requires time away from the distractions of regular lobster-life.
Shedding its shell leaves the lobster in an incredibly defenceless state. A secure space must be created to facilitate this vulnerability. For lobsters, this usually means hiding out in some rocks. If you’re going to rip out your stomach and eyes, it probably helps to feel like you’re somewhere safe.
The Denial of Discomfort
All of us have a shell. We all walk through this world with a rigid exoskeleton conveying how we want to be perceived. When our soft, mushy selves underneath begin to expand, (sometimes by no means of our own — it simply happens), we feel the pressure against our hard exterior.
Our expansion creates discomfort — the shell we’ve become accustomed to is no longer serving us. It is the shell of a former self, of who we used to be but have grown beyond. This pressure is a powerful signal telling us the time has come to shed this layer of ourselves and enter a new stage of being.
“Our biological oscillators contain certain kinds of information about our internal world. We feel that information as certain kinds of groupings of emotions. These emotions give us informational, sensory cues about what is going on within us (if we will only pay attention). When we decipher these cues, just as when we decipher the pattern of visual cues that is a road sign, we gain information about the road we are on, the path we are taking.”
-Stephen Buhner, Secret Teachings of Plants
The human body is a highly refined machine, constantly sending feedback for our the brain to integrate. Unfortunately, society has programmed us to believe that prolonged discomfort is a sign of mental illness. We fail to recognize that feeling uncomfortable is a normal part of being human — a potent opportunity to grow and expand.
Most of us recede in fear when faced with change. We choose to keep our old, tight, worn shell on because it is familiar. This is similar to being 30 and parading around in clothes you wore when you were 10 — you can do it, but it’s uncomfortable and you’ll get strange looks.
By denying our discomfort, we simultaneously deny ourselves the opportunity to grow. We have no problem throwing out old possessions that are no longer useful to us, but we refuse to trash old mental programs and harmful beliefs that keep us trapped in mediocrity.
Change Your Perception, Change Your Life
Lobsters continually reinvent themselves like their life depends on it — because it does. They are so committed to continual growth and expansion they will die trying. What do you think would happen if you took this approach to your life?
Shedding our shell demands us to confront ideas around who we really are. It evokes fundamental questions regarding our values and priorities. This is a terrifying proposition in a world that encourages you to be emotionally flatlined — a well-marketed deception Big Pharma has built a trillion dollar industry around.
But we can dispel this illusion. At any moment, we’re capable of changing our perception. We can choose to perceive every ounce of internal pressure as an opportunity for self-discovery and have a life-changing breakthrough in the process. When we realize this, discomfort becomes workable — potentially even enjoyable.
This is living at our edge — where we begin to pierce our layers of purpose. It’s a chance to shed the old shell that no longer serves us and move towards alignment with our true essence— connecting us to our birthright of a happy, healthy, and meaningful life.
