On hot summer days, there’s no place that I’d rather be than in an octopus’s garden in the shade.
Recently both my freezer and kitchen air conditioner went on the blink as the temperatures soared into the 90s. Fortunately my handyman Caleb, my knight in shining armor, came to my rescue. In the meantime, I fantasized about being in a cool place of wonder, wrapping myself in the spirit of one of my favorite Beatles songs.
Ringo Starr wrote “Octopus’s Garden” after quitting the Beatles on Aug. 22, 1968. Feeling like the odd man out in the band, he took his family on holiday to Sardinia and hopped on a boat owned by his friend Peter Sellers. He expected fish and chips for lunch but instead got something chewy that turned out to be squid. The captain of the boat came over and chatted with him about how octopuses build gardens from various objects on the ocean floor.
How cool was that? Ringo picked up his guitar and started writing “Octopus’s Garden.” His line about no one telling him what to do reaffirmed his dignity as a drummer. Hurray for Ringo!
All my life I’ve been intrigued by the push and pull between autonomy and connection. As a writer, I need space and time to create, but, like other social species, I also seek a sense of connection with my fellow humans.
Intriguingly, an octopus’s behavior might offer some insight into how to balance alone time with togetherness. The octopus reaches out a hand from the comfort of its own den to signal an openness to communication.
Aha! So even octopuses need to feel secure in their own space in order to interact with others. Ringo left the Beatles after Paul criticized his drum playing on “Back in the USSR.” To get him back, the three other Beatles sent him a telegram overseas, affirming their love for him.
I, too, recently experienced the complexity of group dynamics. Much like Yoko Ono and the Fab Four, my dog, Desi, served as an outside destabilizing force for my book club. The conflict involved my love-me-love-my-dog approach to hosting. Fortunately, Cousin Caryl offered a solution: I could host from her house. Problem solved. Unlike the Beatles, my book club has stayed together.
My late husband, Fred, and I saw Ringo with his All-Starr Band several years ago at Mohegan Sun. In addition to being a fabulous show, it reaffirmed for me the joys of collaboration. His concerts bring together his favorite fellow musicians. He’s found a way post-Beatles to collaborate with others while protecting the integrity of his own playing.
Some of my book club friends work together at a plot in the community gardens dedicated to the memory of a former member. Much as I applaud them for their efforts, digging in the dirt in the hot sun has no appeal to me.
An octopus’s garden, on the other hand, gets my creative juices flowing. How can I wave a hand from the comfort of my den? What kind of self-altering objects can I add to my cave?
As a compulsive planner, my appointment book serves as my equivalent to the octopus’s outstretched hand. I love living in my own den and scheduling time to see others.
My collaborator, Ann, and I usually meet by phone on weekdays at 1 p.m. to work on our children’s book series about Zeke the Weather Geek. We write together, finishing each other’s sentences, to address our editor’s questions.
For seeing octopuses, I’d highly recommend the Oscar-award winning documentary “My Octopus Teacher,” on Netflix, a spellbinding into the friendship between a man and a cephalopod. The octopus fortifies her home with shells from the food she eats, as well as other objects, to protect herself from predators.
Fortunately, humans have developed vaccines, tests, and outdoor restaurants to keep ourselves safe in this age of COVID. As much as I might want to romanticize octopuses, I’m an even bigger fan of humans like Ringo Starr.
Life is all about balancing the conflicting needs of solitude and connection. This year, I bought a planter of succulents on a whim. Lo and behold, it started sprouting gorgeous pink flowers with practically no effort on my part. It just goes to show that we can all find new ways of building our own octopus’s gardens in the shade.
Joan Axelrod-Contrada is a writer who lives in Florence.. Reach her at joanaxelrodcontrada@gmail.com.