Guest Blogger: Anne Barry Jolles
One early morning last week there was a knock at my door. My next door neighbor, said, “There is a parakeet in your driveway.”
What? I live in the Northeast and we don’t have any birds like parakeets living around here, at least not on this side of the bird cage bars. Curious about that, I walked to the end of my drive and there stood a beautiful yellow, blue and green parakeet.
It was obvious that this bird was used to humans because we could get very close and the bird kept pecking away looking for food. With no discussion, we animal lovers immediately decided that we should try and catch the little birdie before the hawks, which are so numerous in this area, found it. As parents we had visions of some child quite upset because someone opened the cage and their beloved pet escaped.
How would you have felt?
When we got too close to the bird, it panicked and flew up to a tree. After a quick phone call to my vet, I decided, with their encouragement, to go out later and if the bird was still there, I would try again to catch it. I went back to work and hours later walked to the end of my drive to get my mail and there sits the bird pecking away and looking up at me nonchalantly. This time I was equipped with a cage. I held my finger out, like the vet suggested, hoping the bird would jump on board. No luck. Then I threw down some seed in a path that led right up to my cage hoping he would jump in quite relieved to be “home” again. No luck. As I did all this, I chatted with the bird quietly and sidled up closer and finally tried to grab it. It flew away again. Well, I reasoned, I tried to be the great pet rescuer. I decided that I had done as much as I could and sort of forgot about the bird who looked down at me from the telephone wire.
The next day, I am walking my dog about a half mile from home and from out of nowhere, the parakeet flies at my face and lands on the sidewalk in front of me. What are the odds of that? This is a new challenge. What is it with this bird anyway? Now, I have nothing to catch him with so I surrender my thoughts to the dangers that this tiny chap is facing. I was feeling quite protective and frustrated as I couldn’t help him or her out once again. I had to walk away from a situation that I could not resolve to my satisfaction.
What do you think that bird was thinking?
And then the next day, in blows Hurricane Irene. During the many hours stuck inside my home listening to that howling wind and watching those trees bend from it, I must admit that I mentioned that little bird to my husband. I said, “That poor little parakeet is never going to make it through this mess!”
Following the storm, the next day, I was walking my dog on a totally different route and, lo and behold, that darn parakeet was sitting on the sidewalk right in front of me. This seems beyond coincidence. It is a sign of something but I am not sure what. Have you ever experienced something like this? I photographed my new friend because I did not want this to be another fish story about, “the big one who got away”. I discovered I had a new attitude about this little guy. He does not seem to need my help at all. He made it through a hurricane. I started thinking that maybe these are the best days of his life… cage free, independent and quite resourceful. This resilient, tiny soul had a message for me. I am going to be more aware of the assumptions that I am making about others. I am going to look at more perspectives before I go trying to catch a bird who just does not want to be caught.
At first, it was all about me. But as I thought about things, I can really relate to that birds experience…
As a metaphor for life, when you think about this story, who do you connect more with? Me or the bird?
Would you like to learn some new perspectives and ways to cope with life’s unexpected curves? Join Anne Barry Jolles for her webinar, Rise and Shine Anytime: 5 Steps for Increasing Positivity, Resiliency and Success. Sign up today at the website or by calling Anne at +1.781.878.8589, or by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.