A Story of Finding One’s Way

I hear people ask where I go for the winter. If an answer is provided, it is that I fly South. This may be true, or it may not. I do not know which way happens to be South and which way happens to be North. I know that deep inside my being, I feel the need to go, so I go. I go where my instinct tells me to go. I go until I get where I am meant to be, and until it feels right, I do not stop.

I have more than one home. A pond surrounded by cattails is the scenery of my summers and I love it dearly. As the pond begins to freeze, I am cold, but I stay right where I am. I am meant to be in this home for longer; I do not wish to leave just yet. I stay until the ice is solid and I can no longer break through the surface for food. Every cycle, I am reminded that I must leave my home sometimes – until the time is right to return. For that reason, the image of a frozen pond brings a tear to my eye and a twinge to my heart.

My second home is far away. It is still home – it is a part of me – and I am drawn there every year, but the connection is not quite as strong as the one pulling me back to my birthplace. The plants change daily, and, with them, the entire landscape gradually alters. The other animals come and go from the area, leaving behind traces of their presence. The most striking changes coming from the presence of the humans. Today, both of my homes look substantially different than when I first got acquainted with them. The journey between my two destinations is not one I can easily navigate by sight, for the world is mutable. To reach where I am meant to be, I follow my soul and trust that it will lead me to the right place.

It’s funny how big the cold seems to be when you are within its reaches. It feels like there is no escaping the icy fingers of the air. Like all things, the air changes with a change in location. Perspective really is everything. When something is as big as the air, it can’t feel exactly the same all over. Just like you and me, its mood is constantly changing. By the time it warms up in one place, it is expressing a stinging coldness in another. If you take heed of the air’s mood shifts, you know the cold isn’t so big as to be inescapable. All you have to do is go straight in one direction and you will eventually have passed right through it.

Sometimes I hear people ask why I bother to go where I know everything will eventually ice over. I laugh when I hear this question because they simply do not understand. It is not a matter of me choosing to enter a place that will, in time, be unfit for me. It is a matter of me returning to my home, despite the fact that it will inevitably be an environment unsuitable for me again. The answer to the question of why I do that can be found within any living creature. There is just something about home that makes you rationalize risking your wellbeing for the ephemeral comfort of the place. The mind seems to be innately unafraid of experiencing familiar pain. The unknown is what the mind fears, but if you choose to follow your soul, you will have no limitations. The soul does not fear.