New Moon Guidance

a seasonal note

Any day now, the annual "March of the Penguins" will begin in Antarctica. Did you ever see that documentary? I remember being completely riveted by the excruciating journey of the Emperor Penguins!

The Emperor Penguins are the only species that breeds in the Antarctic winter, beginning in March with the long trek to their ancestral nesting grounds. They travel up to 100 miles inland, with their funny, stilted walk, facing -40° temperatures and gusts up to 125mph. 

The way these wonderfully odd birds survive the bitter storms that blow through the Antarctic is called, the huddle. The purpose of the huddle is to reduce individual heat loss. Each penguin takes a turn at the coldest fringe of the group, then shuffles inward (often with an egg or a chick balanced on their feet!). The huddle of tightly packed penguins is in continuous motion, and just how they manage to so fairly redistribute themselves has fascinated biologists and applied mathematicians alike.

I think that the penguin huddles are operated by two perfectly balanced instincts: Keep Self Warm, and Keep Others Around.

Neither goal can be met individually. If a subgroup of penguins prioritized itself over the rest and tried to stay in the toasty center of the circle, eventually the source of warmth would fade, as their selfishness literally froze out the other birds around them. Likewise, if a few hero penguins tried to stay on the edges to keep everyone warm by themselves, they'd very quickly fail - their attempt to be The Most Helpful Penguins would actually put everyone at risk.

I suspect most of you reading this would probably be one of those "Hero Penguins," just like me. It's hard for me to remember that I'm not dependent on just myself and that not everyone is dependent on me; that I'm part of an interconnected group that, yes, needs my support, but supports me, too.



We need each other. 

We need huddle along all together, sharing what we have to share (often we have more to give than penguin-sized body heat, but sometimes just warmth and closeness is actually enough), and taking what we need to take.

Giving/taking. Needing/sharing. Nature requires this balance.

We can take our turn freezing for a bit, but we have to let others shuffle us into recovery.

We cannot survive this world alone (or acting like we alone can help everyone else survive). The only way we weather this life is if our individual survival (or rescuer) instincts get balanced by concern for the collective.

Beloved, we are the collective. Let's look out for us all.
 
xx
Laura