I befriended some geese over the summer. I realize that sounds weird, but hear me out. As I quickly approach my 40th birthday, I made a promise to myself to do whatever it will take to get healthy. My mom had a heart attack at 43 and that is one category where I certainly do not want to follow in her footsteps. 

One of the steps I take every week is going to the gym where these geese live. Every morning this summer, I saw these geese nesting near the back of the parking lot on the side of the building where I park. One would sit on the nest next to the building while the other one wandered around looking for food. I stayed away from that area. I do not want to be attacked by a goose in front of giant windows that bored people are staring out of while walking on a treadmill. 

Not everyone I go to the gym with is as wise as I am. A few weeks ago on a Saturday morning, some guy parked right in front of the nest. The goose went after him when he returned to the car after his workout. I watched through the giant glass windows and tried to hold in my laughter as four dudes tried to help the man into his car without getting bit. 

Earlier this week just past the back of the parking lot on the road, I saw a goose had been hit by a car. Instantly, my chest started to ache and my eyes filled with tears. Was that my goose? Would their partner be looking for them? Geese mate for life, ya know. 

My heart still hurts sitting here at my desk writing this, trying to find some gentle transition to explain that somehow, I think I found the goodness in this heart breaking thing. 

See, in the minutes that passed afterward, I caught that little voice inside my head that tells me to toughen up creeping in. Then, a more gentle curiosity made me wonder if caring about something isn’t so bad. 

Maybe caring this much about a bird I never even named also opens up the possibility that there are a lot of people whose names I don’t even know that care about me, too. 

Pain, especially the kind that comes from loneliness, is a source of violence in our society. Hurt people hurt people. But I believe there’s a medicine for that pain when we pay attention - even to what hurts. 

We live in these tiny ecosystems that we barely look away from our phones long enough to notice. In the glance at another notification, we miss the smile when we walk in the door at the gym. The excitement of a small business owner when their first customer walks in. The longing of a child for some hero to grab something from a high shelf. Or in my case, the longing of a dog trying to get me to grab his ball from under the couch. 

But this bird was my reminder, and hopefully one for you too, that there’s someone out there who cares about each of us. Someone whose name we don’t even know.