Geese. Specifically, the Canada Goose. In their lifetime they travel a greater distance than most of us ever will. Thousands of miles, north to south, south to north, back again. Following the same route every year, learned from their parents, they spend summer in the north and winter in the south. They live from 10 to 25 years, flying often more than 1000 miles each way every year.
Along the way, some of them stop on the river near where we live. Usually just for the overnight, and then the next morning, they call together, flock up, and continue. Sometimes, especially on the way north, they stop off for a few days.
I was watching some of them this morning. They came in late last night. This morning they foraged around, drifting up and down the river, eating, browsing (it seemed to me), learning the territory I suspect (for the new-born, of course, it was their first visit) and then, at a signal from the leader of the moment, they rose up and continued the journey south.
I was thinking to myself “not a bad model” – travel on the voyage for a while, take a break, hang around, get back on track.
For years, in Child and Youth Care offices I have seen pictures of ducks or geese flying in formation, as a symbol of team work. Maybe they also offer us another model. Work, break, relax, get back on track. After all, it is always a long voyage.
And there is a rhythm to it, this voyage of the geese – revolving with the seasons, and in the season ... work, relax, work, relax. Not a bad rhythm – how can something so natural be bad?
Got me to wondering about our work with young people and their families – who’s rhythm do we follow? Do we impose ours on them? And, really, is it necessary that we all work 24-7? Is there not room to move towards the destination, rest, move more, rest, move forward again, according to some rhythm which is more natural than the “work every minute towards the goal”?
What is the rhythm of change anyway?
Thom