Lessons from Geese

A message for the weary.

As geese migrate, they fly in a V. The bird at the front does the hardest work. The geese behind feel less resistance and can fly farther with less effort. When the lead goose grows tired, it doesn’t push on, nor does it abandon the journey. It drops back into the line, and another goose moves forward to take the lead. They rotate leadership, again and again, until the whole flock reaches its destination. The geese behind honk not to hurry the leader, but to encourage it—to say, keep going, we’re with you.

This story offers important lessons for our work together:

• Leadership is shared, not permanent.

• Strength comes from cooperation.

• Rest is part of the cycle--and key to endurance.

• Community makes long journeys possible.

There is real science behind this. Flying in formation reduces energy use through aerodynamic lift, and birds do change positions during long flights. Whether the honking is encouragement is harder to prove scientifically—but regardless, the story points to a deeper truth: no one leads forever, and no one makes the journey alone.

Fighting for democracy is difficult. From time to time, we sprint--getting ready for the next No Kings protest, or responding to the latest affront. We give our life’s energies to the task, running as fast as we can.

I liken that flurry of activity to breathing out.

Here’s the thing: we cannot just keep breathing OUT, we must also breathe IN.

For myself, I know that when I’m tired, I’m not at my best--certainly not at my most creative. When I feel weary, I might even consider giving up. Fortunately, I’ve been at this work long enough to know that when I feel this way, I need to drop back and honk encouragement instead of taking on more and more. I shift my focus from leading to self-care.

What if, rather than “give up”, we all consider shifting our focus to active self-care as part of the cycle? Caring for ourselves is not abandoning responsibility. It is a way of staying human and responsible—as in having the ability to respond.

BREATHE. Let’s start with that.

Breath is the most basic rhythm of life. We don’t earn it. We don’t optimize it. We don’t even have to remember it most of the time. Breath arrives, sustains us, and cycles again and again, whether or not we feel ready. It is both utterly ordinary and quietly miraculous.

And yet, under stress, breath is often the first thing we lose.

When we’re frightened, overwhelmed, or bracing for impact, our breath becomes shallow. We hold it without realizing. We tighten our chest. We anticipate the future or react to the past, forgetting the only moment where breath actually happens: now.

Self-care is not about adding something new to an already crowded life. It’s about making space for what already sustains us.

So if nothing else feels manageable today, start here:

Feel your feet on the ground and BREATHE.

Remember: life still offers nourishment—air, sunlight, a moment of quiet, the warmth of a cup in our hands, the sound of laughter ( or geese honking). All are reminders that we are still here, still alive and connected to each other in this beautiful, living world.

P.S. After I wrote this, I came across Jess Craven’s Chop Wood Carry Water blog post along the same lines. A great read.