Wild Geese

September is a month of change. In nature, animals follow their homing instincts and in society, humans cringe with the knowledge that change is right around the corner come election day. Like the humpback whales and arctic terns that are about to embark on their long journeys south, September means migration season for me, too. Twelve years ago this week, my family moved to Guatemala to live there for a year. Two years ago this week, I returned to Central America to live there for the semester. Both these moves tremendously influenced the development of my sense of self and place. Within the next two weeks, I will head south again, in hopes that I will absorb even more goodness and knowledge from the world. Unlike the migrating terns, humpbacks, and geese, I will be traveling via overcrowded airplanes and buses. However, like any of the migrating animals, I am traveling because it is what I must do to thrive. 

On the themes of migration and sense of place, I'll be hosting a teen art night at my work next week to make ink and watercolor art inspired by Mary Oliver's poem, "Wild Geese". Enjoy her poem, shared below, and please share my flyer with any teens in Kodiak who may be interested in attending next week.

"Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.