Are You Wandering Through the Ice Caps?

By Jeanne Filkins

We have much to learn from the emperor penguin. He is more than the stunning Antarctic creature we come to know somewhat intimately through French director Luc Jacquet’s film March of the Penguins. He is a glimpse into an evermore elusive understanding of nature’s plan.

Forget that you get to listen to an hour and a half of Morgan Freeman’s comforting narrative, or stand in homage to the crew on this epic film that obviously withstood tremendous weather conditions to bring you this celluloid masterpiece. It is the marvelous penguin, stately in his formal attire and tireless in his fulfillment of nature’s plan that I honor here.

The penguin’s ongoing quest to propagate his species is the epitome of perseverance amidst the world’s harshest conditions. As young lovers we see them pair off as though a homing device led them to their mate. Later, we learn he is a dedicated and doting father, determined to fulfill his destiny of protecting his offspring even before he gets to peer into the eyes of his precious chick. She is focused and self-sacrificing on her trek to bring nourishment to her spawn dozens of miles away, whom she has entrusted in the care of her mate. As part of their tribal journey, they work together to survive a winter mostly unknown to man.

All the while, they listen closely to the silent whisperings of nature’s choreography. 

They follow an inner voice that many of us can no longer hear. Maybe, we never knew it was there in the first place. In a world where the trappings of success often speak louder than the wisdom gained on our journey to get there, the voice is barely audible.

For some, the voice is clouded by fear, muffled by an angry world that has them surrounded by violence, chemical abuse and hopelessness. We know what happens to the emperor penguin that has lost his way. The film shows no remorse in revealing his carcass. Did his inner voice become silent, or did he stop listening?

I think the voice remains for all of us, ever-present and comforting, promising a life filled with greatness, like the penguin’s thousands of years in the making. We just have to be still, listen, and march.