There was a lone Canadian goose stepping back and forth in a small area down on the field, about three hundred feet from my window. After a few minutes, it simply stood still. It was unsettling to see the lone goose there.
Surely it would fly off. It didn’t.
What could I do to help it? I was sure approaching it with bird seed was not a good idea. I would watch it. Perhaps call Animal Control if it didn’t fly off. Surely it would fly off.
Geese are not supposed to be alone. They instinctively stay in community and watch out for each other; often dropping out of their flying wedge formation if they detect one of their own is struggling. I came back to the window a little while later, the goose was still standing there, now with it’s neck drooped down, head lowered as if hopeless.
When I returned home, it was mid-afternoon. The goose was then sitting down, with its head lowered, in the same place it had been standing.
My heart felt like a fifty pound lump of coal as I looked at the lost, alone, cold bird. It hurt to stand there and watch the bird. I went off to find some phone numbers.
Two days before, on New Year’s, I texted a close friend, wishing her a fabulous 2018 and telling her she rocked! Her answer was, “I am afraid.” Of course, I texted back asking if she needed help, was she safe?
A few minutes later, she explained she was afraid of 2018. As 2016 had been a difficult year with several family dramas and sorrow, she had looked forward to a happier 2017. Which turned out to be so filled with pain and betrayal, she felt she couldn’t live through anything more. So … she was afraid of what 2018 would bring.
Where do you turn, what do you do when you are afraid of the next day? The next month? Who do you turn to when those close to you have left you? Aren’t we supposed to be a community and watch out for each other?
Fear. An F-word to be sure. Some say it is an acronym for Forsake Everything And Run (censored version), a short term strategy to avoid the problem causing the fear. However, the problem will likely still be there when you get back. More helpful to me has been False Evidence Appearing Real, as over time I recognized that most of my fears grew out of my self-doubt, trepidation about doing something new, or standing up for myself.
I saw a t-shirt years ago at a department store emblazoned with “Fear is a Thief.” It stopped me for a moment as that truth registered in me. Indeed, my fears had held me back from many things. Many things you don’t, I don’t, get a do-over on.
My heart hurt to hear of my tender friend living in that fear and foreboding on New Year’s Day, when so many people are high-fiving each other, celebrating a fresh start after some time off, and looking forward to opportunities. What could I do to help?
Be in her community. Alas, my magic wand to tap her three times and dissipate her fear has long since disappeared. I had it when I was five but somewhere along the way, I lost track of the darn thing.
Maybe that’s for the best.
There are times when I think of that goose. It still twangs my heart to see the picture so clearly in my mind of the elegant bird alone and hopeless in the white expanse. That day when I came back to the window after finding possible animal rescue phone numbers, the goose was gone.
Where? I’ll never know, I can only hope. My friend? I will be there to listen, and walk with her.
Maybe hope will come along, too.
