My adventures in Goose-watching

Hello Friends,

This spring at our house I have been tracking three families of geese and their new babies. The first days that the little ones can swim is like a parade, the adults bring the babes to the lawn of each of the houses (there's only three, it's a small lake), like an introduction, a showing off of the goods. On each lawn they wander around nipping at the grass, napping and pooping a great deal, before swimming off to the next stop. The parade continues on for several weeks, until the small wings of the babes grow large enough to attempt a flight.

This Friday when we arrived, I saw that the smallest family was down one baby, and worried what might have happened. From here out I'll call that baby Ryan (because baby goose = gosling and Gosling (actor) = Ryan). My husband decided Ryan was napping and would return. My neighbor suspected the fox was at fault. I myself thought the nap was a long-shot but decided I preferred that to Ryan being the fox's breakfast treat. I steeled my heart and, with a frequent flick of my eyes toward the lake, I went about my day.

On Saturday I looked up to see that the numbers had, in fact been restored and Ryan was back – rejoice! I silently celebrated for some minutes until he turned at such an angle that I was able to see that a sizable bite had been taken out of his rump. He limped a bit as he came up onto our lawn, but seemed to be doing ok. He did take time to tend to his wounds while the other ryans slept (yes, we call ALL the babies the ryans – small “r” with respect to Mr. Gosling). After their nap, the family started to get into the water and move on. Ryan, however, had JUST settled down for his rest and was not ready to go. His protests began with the quietest whisper of a whimper. At first, I could barely hear it or identify that it came from him, but once I tuned in to it – oh how it pulled at my heart!

So, as his family swam off, Ryan was still quite convinced this wasn't the right move for him, and sat on our lawn giving a breathy ahh ahh ahh ahh. Papa gave the one response I hear him give all over the lake, a beacon of a sound that he uses whenever the group is traveling or comes in for a landing. It's a single, repeating, resounding HONK that I have come to translate as “I'm here, come join me”.

Ahh ahh ahh ahh. HONK.

Ryan's cries became increasingly distressed the further away his family moved. At first sitting and crying, then craning his neck to see them, then standing, and eventually standing at the lakeside crying desperately to stay where he was; but Papa's voice never wavered - confident, calm, assured: I'm here, come join me.

Ryan did eventually make his way across the lake while Papa waited for him. Watching the journey of a solo gosling across what suddenly seemed a large swath of water was…tender. And while the scheduling of goose calendars is completely opaque to me, it certainly seemed, to an outsider, that the family should have/could have rested a bit longer for the sake of Ryan's recovery. I noticed a few hours later the group wandered out again without Ryan, so I know he finally got his nap. But life is always like this, yes? Even in the most beautiful scenes, we can sometimes be found attending to our wounds, and wanting a rest. I'm glad that Ryan had a guide to let him know when and where rest would be the best and safest choice.

So what does all this have to do with Chinese medicine? Well, for even us grownup humans, it can be difficult to know when to rest or push through. If you live in NYC, I think the answer is usually rest, but at least Chinese medicine is not opaque. It can serve as a meaningful guide about what activity is most effective at what time, based on an individual's pulse. It teaches us how to tend to our wounds; but even better, it explains how some of us are vulnerable to certain kinds of wounds and how to protect against them. This medicine is so special, and you don't have to be wounded to partake!

On Sunday night, as the sun was setting, I noticed Ryan was being left behind again. He stood on the boulder in front of our deck, crying out for Papa to come back and stay with him. Papa continued to sound confident as his call slowly moved further away. The call and response went on for some time; until eventually Ryan just plopped down on the rock and stopped asking for help. He was tired and wanted to stay put. At this point I became a bit desperate - the light was quickly fading and I was about to lose access to my nature TV! After a few minutes of (unsuccessfully) trying to work out a way that I could continue to watch this drama, including shutting off all our lights without a whole lot of explanation, while my husband ate dinner, I knew I had to let nature take its course. I hoped for the best and went to bed without resolution.

The next morning when I woke up, I thought I heard Ryan crying, but when I got to the window he was nowhere in sight. There was quite a bit of poop on the boulder (and no feathers or bones) so I'm hopeful he got home ok in the night. I won't know until next weekend, when our next Ryan episode drops.

With the world so topsy turvy, you may also be feeling like Ryan the gosling, or you may feel like me, having difficulty with the patience and the waiting. It happens to the best of us. Heck it probably even happens to Ryan (no “the”) Gosling.

But here's the thing, you don't have to tend to your wounds alone. This medicine is meant to be practiced in community with a practitioner, and to you I say: I'm here, come join me.

Hopefully, no offense taken by Ryan (no “the”) Gosling; you are welcome here too 😏).

Good luck out there, and hope to see you, in here, soon.
Theresa

UPDATE:

FRIENDS! Ryan is still with us! I don’t think we’re out of the woods yet, and it may be a heart-wrenching story, no matter how it ends. To follow along for updates click here.