In the Science Building there is an office at the end of the hall that is small and windowless. It has never seen sunlight. Tall lamps stretch toward the ceiling that radiate a warm light. The computer screens are bright and display PowerPoints, dozens of emails, and a Spotify playlist playing in the background. Against one wall is a bookcase and to the side is a bookshelf, all of which are filled with books that he has collected since his undergraduate career to present time. There is a giant whiteboard with biology jargon scrawled across it and a tiny picture of a beach that curls back onto the board. Hanging happily on the walls are rainbow paintings, they are the closest piece of the natural environment the office has. A big grey yoga ball lives in the corner, befriending the bookshelf.
Next to the bookcase, a big chair rests against the wall that I plop myself into a lot. If I look up at the open door, there is a smaller whiteboard in the center, with stickers peppered around it and a quote that says, “You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.”
You can find Geoff Cook swimming in piles of manila folders, colorful notes and biology assignments.
I grew up on Cape Cod. Our house is a five-minute drive, or a two mile walk from home; the ocean is home, giving bits and pieces of itself to me and asking for nothing in return. The ocean has been a safe haven for me in times of stress, jumbled thoughts, or fear, when I sneak away to the beach with heavy boots. I can sit and feel the cool sand beneath me, hear the ocean lapping at the shore, smell the salty air, and breathe in time with the waves. I always leave the beach feeling calm, happy and safe. Afterwards my boots are lighter, but my pockets are heavy, stuffed with sea shells.
Thinking about the healing experiences I’ve had and continue to have with the ocean sparked curiosity in me. I wondered if the ocean was beneficial for everyone’s psychology and wanted to learn more.
I went to Geoff.
Geoff is an environmental scientist and marine biologist and has been a professor of Biology and Health Science at New England College for almost three years now. I chose to interview Geoff because I look up to him as a mentor and role model. He has a lot of great stories, a knack for listening to understand, a plethora of dad jokes (the rainbow painting was from his daughter), and is a genuine and peaceful human being. Geoff lives and breathes the ocean and he is extremely knowledgeable on the marine environment. I want to be a marine biologist one day and Geoff’s footprints are big. There really wasn’t a better person to turn to, except maybe Sylvia Earle. Next time.
Geoff has spent a lot of time and continues to try and spend a lot of time on or in the water. His interest in marine biology grew from the thrill of exploring the underwater environment, an entirely different, magical world, a place of discovery. Being a marine biologist has improved his quality of life, “I was almost a doctor. I mean, technically I am a doctor,” he joked, referring to his PhD, and then noted that he immerses his senses with the ocean, the smell of rotting seaweed, the feel of a neoprene wetsuit.
I asked Geoff to tell me about a time he was particularly happy with his job, during the time he was either on or in the water every day for five years. He was a diving and SCUBA instructor between the time he received his undergraduate degree to the time he started graduate school. Spending up to ten hours diving and then surfing led him to start and end the day on the water. He has been able to dive in all but one of Earth’s oceans.
Reflecting on this part of his life every single day, he notes those five years were a transformative period in his life. “I have a treasure chest of memories.”
When asked if he believed that working in an office has influenced his psychology, Geoff answered yes without hesitation. “Negatively,” he said. It’s ironic that an environmental scientist and biologist spends a lot of time in a windowless office. Geoff explained that his office disconnects him from the natural world; the sun can rise and set, and he wouldn’t know. There is a small succulent in his office, and I wonder if it feels the same way. The disconnect even affects his circadian rhythms. In his own words, the office is a means to an end. It has instrumental value, enabling him to provide for his family, to help and connect with students and his colleagues.
Geoff strives to strike a balance between life and work, and manages to keep a positive attitude by not constantly focusing on all the work. “Over the years, I have learned the value of disconnecting,” he said. This allows him to refresh and continue to enjoy what he does.
If he could change one thing about his job, New England College would be located on the coast, and his office would become a “56-foot Beneteau sailboat with a dive compressor, diving equipment, and SCUBA cylinders,” Geoff smiled. He believes being on the ocean would improve his psychology, and would bring students along. Although he no longer works directly on the ocean, he still visits the water as often as he can. The key is integrating the ocean into wherever he is.
The best part of Geoff’s job is experiences with his students; the act of being able to teach, talk without barriers while providing a safe space for people, and being able to learn as much from his students as his students learn from him. “It is true mentorship,” he noted. His job at NEC allows him to continuously explore new mindscapes and seascapes.
In regards to how he believes the ocean can positively affect someone’s mental state, he mentioned a beach trip. Geoff recently took his “No Oceans, No Us” course to the shore.

Geoff talked about the laughter and connection the class took on almost immediately upon walking onto the beach; everyone came to life. The students had not truly spoken or interacted with one another in the last seven weeks, barely knowing each other’s names. Speaking from my own perspective, we came to the beach as strangers and left as friends with happy memories.
Building off how the ocean can impact a person’s mental state, Geoff added that during the time he took people diving only two individuals relayed to him that they did not enjoy the experience out of the 7,000-10,000 people he introduced to the ocean. He viewed himself as a diplomat to help people feel and connect with the water. The ocean is therapeutic.
Geoff noted that studies on how the ocean impacts psyche is just beginning to be explored. “Biologically speaking, even touching the water has a calming effect. Lower blood pressure and lower amounts of anxiety.” He agrees that the ocean can affect neural networks in the human brain. “The ocean can reshape perspective.” Memories can solidify neural networks and responses to environmental stimuli and our senses can build these networks.
I asked Geoff to explain a personal or emotional connection he has with the ocean. I was curious to understand his own connection, and hearing his answer was interesting because I am only familiar with my own. He connects the ocean to be the birthplace of all life. Geoff goes back to the ocean to reconnect with the creation of his being and describes it as a humbling experience. Humbling in the sense that the ocean helps him recognize he isn’t special but that he is at the same time. It provides a feeling of being whole and peaceful.
Towards the end of the interview, I brought up happiness. Happiness is something that I think about a lot, wondering what happiness really is and how its definition varies depending on the person. It’s difficult to wrap my head around common ideas that a person must achieve certain milestones in their life before they are happy and if they do not meet certain milestones, they will be unhappy.
Geoff’s definition of happiness has evolved throughout his life and that happiness has evolved with him. Happiness is intertwined with a sense of total freedom, and he considers it an instrumental quality rather than a destination he must arrive to. His answer reminded me of philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson, who noted: “The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”
Finally, I asked Geoff how this interview made him feel. He leaned back in his chair and became quiet for a moment, then looked up for a second to think before answering “Nostalgic.”
I found this interview to be more valuable than I thought it would be. Listening to Geoff’s answers and trying to understand his perspective, I learned the value of listening to understand rather than listening to reply. It was fascinating to learn how much the ocean can influence psychology and how impactful it can be on just one individual’s life.
In the beginning of the interview, Geoff stated he “has a treasure chest of memories.” This was my favorite quote. It made me reflect on my own memories with the ocean, in good and bad times. I realized how much the ocean has molded me and how I would probably be a different person had the ocean never been a part of my life. I could assume the same of Geoff, but I am just speculating. I am grateful for getting to understand Geoff’s perspective, and developed a deeper sense of how ocean and mind are intertwined.
Leaving the interview, I put on a purple jacket, the same jacket I wore to Kettle Cove for our class beach trip. When I went to put my phone in the right-side pocket, I couldn’t. There were handfuls of seashells inside and I remembered how I felt that day at the beach.
My boots are light.

















