Neurobiology student Sara Matiş takes a close look at the world around her – and the lessons to be learned from nature. In this column, she dives into the ocean and is amazed about how octopuses can essentially see with their skin.

The salty water reaches up to my waist as I am standing on a half-way submerged rock. I inhale deeply and launch myself head first into the crystal-clear sea. The coolness of the water takes my breath away. A rush of cortisol is sent through my veins preparing my body for a fight-or-flight response. I dive along the rock through a shoal of small black fish. The increasing pressure pushes my eardrums. My brain is sending alarms – I have no air, I have no air – and then, suddenly, an entrancing calmness.

I’m weightless and my mind goes completely quiet. Time dilates. Seconds become minutes and for those minutes I feel like this is where I belong. My body almost forgets it needs to breathe. I bring my stomach close to the seafloor, brushing it lightly, and I glide by dragging myself above the sand with my hands. After a few slow forward movements, I stand up and propel myself off the seabed. I ascend through the seven-meter water column by making a coordinated movement with all my limbs.

I’ve always had this intoxicating longing for being in the water and diving. When I push through that initial bodily panic, something magical happens. Down there, there is not much room for thoughts, it all becomes instinct; I like to imagine that I’m a bit like an octopus.

‘Octopuses have around the same amount of neurons as dogs, but most of them are localized inside their eight arms’

Octopuses have incredible senses. They have over 2000 suction cups that work similarly to taste buds, allowing them to taste and smell their environment by touching. Octopus eyes can detect the orientation of light waves (polarized light) with exceptional detail. It’s difficult for us to imagine what that would look like, but this additional layer of perception helps with enhancing contrast and reducing distortions caused by reflections.

Even though they are colorblind, octopuses are well known as masters of camouflage – they can change the color and texture of their skin in a fraction of a second to perfectly match their surroundings. A possible explanation for being capable of this, despite seeing in greyscale, is that octopuses have light-sensing proteins in their skin. They can essentially see with their skin – not in the way that they can form an image, but their skin can detect colors.

Nature shaped this boneless liquid-like animal to sense with its whole being, to melt into its environment, to move in limitless ways and to think with its entire body – literally. Octopuses have around the same amount of neurons as dogs, but most of them are localized inside their eight arms, which are able to act independently.

Those moments of mental silence when I’m diving are meditative; they bring my mind inside my body. I have no choice but just be. My vision and touch perception get heightened. I notice the patterns of fish, the grainy texture of the sand, the way light casts hypnotic shapes on the seafloor and seaweed-covered rocks.

There is no past or future, I’m simply sensing with every patch of my skin and feeling my heart beating even with the lack of oxygen. The water engulfs me whole and I become one with it. When I try to stay present and mindful of my body, even on land where I can freely breathe, I like to imagine that I’m a bit like an octopus.

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