This morning, I saw a group of geese walking across an open space.
They were simply walking.
Some were ahead.
Some were behind.
There was no perfect formation. No apparent urgency. They seemed to stop when they wanted to stop and move when they wanted to move.
Watching them, a thought came to me.
They do not care about politics.
They do not care about recognition.
They do not wonder whether someone approves of the direction they are going.
They simply go where they need to go, at their own pace.
Of course, human life is much more complicated.
We have responsibilities.
We have families.
We work inside organizations.
We need money.
We make commitments to other people.
We cannot simply walk away every time something becomes uncomfortable.
But perhaps that is exactly why this simple scene stayed with me.
For much of my life, I wanted to know where I was going.
I chose a destination, created a plan, and concentrated my energy on getting there.
That way of living served me well.
But perhaps there are seasons when we do not need to know the entire destination.
Perhaps we only need to know the direction of the next few steps.
What gives me peace?
What quietly gives me energy?
Where do I feel most like myself?
Which relationships do I want to protect?
What am I curious about?
What is my body telling me?
Where is unnecessary noise consuming energy that could be used somewhere more meaningful?
These questions do not always give us a five-year plan.
Sometimes they simply point toward the next few feet.
And perhaps that is enough.
The geese also seemed completely unconcerned about pace.
Some walked faster.
Some slowly.
Occasionally the distance between them became larger.
Yet they continued moving.
I realized how much of human life is spent comparing pace.
Am I progressing quickly enough?
Am I behind someone else?
Should I have accomplished more by now?
Even during transitions, we can create another competition: How quickly can I discover my next purpose?
But perhaps there is no prize for crossing a bridge quickly.
Sometimes we need to walk.
Sometimes we need to stop.
Sometimes we need to sit quietly and look around.
And sometimes we may simply follow a signal without knowing exactly where it leads.
There was one more thing I noticed.
The geese were moving individually, but they were not alone.
They traveled together without appearing to require everyone to move in exactly the same way.
Perhaps that is another picture of a good life.
We can have our own direction and our own pace while still walking beside people we love.
We do not need identical paths to share part of the journey.
Eventually, the geese continued on, and I continued with my morning.
They probably had no idea that they had taught me anything.
But perhaps that is what happens when we become quiet enough to notice.
Ordinary moments begin to speak.
And the message I heard that morning was simple:
You do not need to know the entire path.
Listen for the next direction.
Move at your own pace.
And do not spend too much energy worrying about who is watching.
Sometimes the next step is enough.
The Heart of Endurance 