Goose, Goose, Duck

"Radio Lab" which is one of those shows you should be listening to if you're not, had a great piece on a guy who had "auditory hallucinations" 24-7. Music would play in his head, loudly, drowning out his ability to concentrate, carry on a conversation and other vital functions. What he lost in his ability to communicate with the outside world, he gained a unique insight into his inner monologue. Whatever his mood, a song would blast in his head and he had to figure out what it meant. "Mary Had a Little Lamb" took on a political meaning. "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" played on the widowers wedding anniversary.



It's strange what sticks in your head. For the man, "Bring Back My Bonnie To Me," was his subconscious way of saying "I miss her." A couple days ago, I saw an image that wormed its way inside my head and hasn't left and I think I'm dealing with the same kind of thing. As much as my conscious mind works day to day, week to week, it's my subconscious that's really got my number to the fifth decimal place.



Here's the image: A goose on the grounds of the museum I work at has been sitting along the stone edge of a moat for a few weeks. It sits and honks if you get close. It doesn't take a genius to know it's sitting on eggs. The past couple days, the wind has been really whipping around and this lone goose, through wind and rain and dark clouds has been sitting on this rather stupid place to put all your eggs. She hasn't budged, even though badgers and moles and other egg hungry creatures are perfectly capable of taking the same route onto the little island she is, leaving her her eggs no retreat.

I see this goose every day and it's been rattling around in my head like a bad song that won't seem to leave. First off, the moat water looks beautiful as it rolls and pitches. Every now and then a lone duck will kind of surf across the moat and it's beautiful. Second, the goose is constant over the past few weeks - never wavering.

Relating to the goose...I don't know. I guess it comes from the idea that there are predators all around and maybe the goose has backed itself into a corner. Maybe that's why it sticks - that it's in that corner every single day. It's one thing to feel trapped, though I don't really. But I don't think there's anything heroic about the goose. I find it kind of sad whenever I see it.

Not to offer dime store psychoanalysis, but I get the feeling my subconscious is telling me I've backed myself into a corner. I've got a few predators gnawing around that I know of. I'm hyperfocused sometimes and can't concentrate to save my life other times. I have as much responsibility and pressure as I guess I've ever had and the water churning underneath is not terribly beautiful.

But the goose is. I'll take a video.