A Tale of Two Geese

[This was originially written on 26 April 2006; in many ways it is an immature piece, but it is one of my favorites, and to launch the Ketuvim project I am first using old material. I apologize if you've read this before, but maybe there's something new you'd like to add]

Typically I think of good intros for these things. Or what I think are good introductions. This time is no different. What makes it unique, though, is that I forgot my good introduction. I had a final this morning that I nearly slept through, and when I got home I decided to embrace being up and went to hang out by one of the lakes and read. I could go back to sleep at this point, because I hung a dark, folded sheet on my window [ghetto curtains] last night because the girls in the next building leave their blinds wide open and the light on all day long also leave the light on with their blinds wide open all night long. Their light is brighter at that point than the surrounding campus buildings and parking garage. And it disturbs my sleep. I fixed the problem last night. So at this point I could sleep well in mid-afternoon. This is all besides the point.

There were 5 geese, give or take. One of the things I really, really like about UNF is that it's a nature preserve & we have tons of trees, a healthy share of lakes, and ducks. Year round. But the real treat is the Canadian Geese that come here seasonally to have their babies, give them time to grow feathers and learn to fly, and then they go home. In time, they'll be back. Like I said, it's a seasonal thing.

So I was out by the lake this morning, reading, and the geese were pretty peaceful and from time to time I'd look up and observe them, and the way the green trees reflected on the blue water below a pale blue sky with some white fluffy clouds. It was all very peaceful, really.

One of these geese was all by its lonesome, and I noted it more and more because it kept....attacking the other geese. It'd start vocalizing up a storm and then fly over to the other ones and they would fly away. [By "fly" I mean juuuuust above the water line, and if I had a fancy camera there'd be some spectacular pictures]. This goose was Cuba, and the other geese were democratic countries pushing the International / Cuban water boundary lines. And really, the other geese were not doing anything harmful [they're democratic & believe in the pursuit of happiness & freedom for all], just hanging out, swimming around. But this rogue goose, it was just mean. And actively rejecting all possible social engagement.

I started to think about people who do this in their own lives. I started to think about how I do this in my own life. How it's probably not a good thing to live in isolation. And I don't just mean antisocials, or the unabomber. I mean you and me, in the ways that we've decided to guard ourselves from further emotional torment by just cutting off any and all potential sources of evildoing. You know how democracy can seem shady sometimes.

What really happened was I was out there reading my Bible, Blue Like Jazz, and jotting things down for this summer [I'm really quite consumed by my plans and intentions for this summer]. And anytime I read Don Miller I wonder what would happen if we were all introspective, self-critical, and aware of our self-endangerment. I honestly believe it would change the world. It would be a better place. It's ironic, isn't it, that to live more fully we have to embrace every shortcoming? I almost want to be Don Miller, solely because I think he's brilliant. I think he's very good at articulating the secret to the universe. What I mean is he's very good at communicating God.

After a while, it became No-Geese-In-The-Water time. Like at public pools, they clear all the kids out for a good half an hour for adult swim, and the kids have to find a way to entertain themselves. I think my rogue goose is the force that prompted it; he made everyone else want to leave. And they did. This pair of geese wandered out together, and one of them pooped as they walked. Geese are very good at multi-tasking.

Eventually Rogue Goose got out of the water too, but didn't still stray from the area he was patrolling. There's this point by the mailboxes where there's something of a peninsula in the water. It's very small. But that was Cuba. All you could see was a very gentle push over the water by the wind, and honestly if it weren't a college campus UNF is the type of environment I would go camping in [though I'm very interested in seeing how campus authorities would react, I don't want to camp on the green. The sprinklers are very unpredictable]. I felt bad for the geese that left because it was really nice at the lake. But I suppose they went off to greener pastures. Rogue Goose, on the other hand, stayed right there in Cuba.

See this is relevant to me because I have created Cuba. I've made this tightly-mortarted wall around my heart and decided I was better off that way. I saw myself in Rogue Goose. And in ten years, I don't see it now but I'll see it in ten years, all the other geese will be around me, in my vicinity, in my environment, swimming in my same lake, and I'll aggressively make them leave. Fidel Castro has no friends. Maybe the Soviets. I actually don't think it's that bad, I function just fine. I really don't think I'm pushing that extreme. Maybe if I didn't read Don Miller I would be. Or, and more likely, if I didn't know Jesus. But I half-believe that if everyone else saw a parallel between this goose and human behavior, we'd be better off. And more forgiving. We all do it. We're either the Rogue Goose or we're the ones who leave Rogue Goose to his own lonely devices.

I came to a good stopping point in my reading so I could come home and tell everyone about Rogue Goose and the democrats. I partially believe anyone who has read this has successfully wasted minutes in what is ultimately a very short life, but thanks for making it this far regardless. Have a good day and be friendly to your neighborly wildlife.