Vahiguru ji ka Khalsa, Vahiguru ji ki Fatih!

Human beings are social creatures. So much of life is about the relationships we have, with family, with friends, with our communities and sangats. What company do we keep?

This week, we are drawn to the words of Sheikh Farid Ji, who offers us vivid imagery as we reflect on this question:

At the pond of salt water, the swans came and landed.
They dip their beaks, but do not drink; there is a desire for flying away.

Let us sit with this scene for a moment. A swan, graceful and purposeful, descends upon a body of water. It lowers its beak to drink, and stops. The water is saline. It cannot provide nourishment. It cannot offer sustenance. And so, without drama or bitterness, the swan lifts its wings and flies away.

What does the swan represent?

The swan is often associated with the self, the inner-spirit, and our potential to rise above pretension and restlessness. In the Guru Granth Sahib, the swan is calm and discerning. We, too, can become swan-like in our dispositions.

In this single scene, Sheikh Farid Ji describes something we have all felt: the experience of entering a space, a community, or a circle of people—full of hope—only to sense, almost immediately, that something is off.

Maybe conversation feels hollow. Maybe we do not see our values reflected in this company. Maybe we find the environment draining rather than sustaining. The connection we seek is simply not there.

What do we do?

Often, we act out of obligation. We are attached to one another even when the environment and company no longer suit us. We tell ourselves that we cannot distance ourselves, maybe because there is too much history, maybe because we want to avoid the potential for friction or conflict, maybe because we worry about keeping up appearances.

But what if we were swan-like in our interactions?

We know that the path toward IkOankar (the One) is not walked alone. We are asked often to reflect on who our sangat is. Sheikh Farid Ji offers guidance: this path cannot be walked with just anyone. The company we keep shapes us! The environments we inhabit either nourish us or slowly drain us. To dip our beaks and realize the water is full of salt is a kind of discernment. What we do with that discernment takes a kind of courage.

The swan does not linger at the salty pond, hoping the water will change. It does not talk itself into drinking something that will only cause harm. It does not stay out of politeness, fear, or the need to belong. It flies on.

Can we do the same?

In our lives, the salty pond takes many forms: gatherings full of gossip and ego, environments where vices are plentiful, spaces full of pretense rather than virtue. Sheikh Farid Ji does not ask us to judge people harshly. He does not ask us to condemn anyone. He only asks us to be honest with ourselves, and to protect the tender and earnest seeking that grows within.

He asks us to keep searching for the right water—to find the companions who are genuine, to sit in the sangat that truly nourishes.

We may ask ourselves: Where are we landing? In what pond have we sought to quench our thirst? Who are we surrounding ourselves with, learning from, growing with?

The swan-like seeker is in this world but not entangled in it. Their heart is permeated by the One. And when they find that pool of water—the virtuous companions—they stay. They take it all in. They are nourished.

May we each find that pond.
May we land in that company.
And until then, may we have the courage to fly on.  

May the Wisdom-Guru guide us!