Not long ago, I found myself with a wagtail trapped in my studio. For over an hour, it flitted around, desperately searching for the open window through which it had flown with its mate. Thankfully, the other bird managed to find its bearings quickly and escaped to freedom, but this little chap remained baffled, repeatedly crashing into the closed window pane just 10 centimeters above the open one. Aaargh! Oh, how jolly frustrating!

Despite my multiple attempts to guide it like a sheepdog with a broom held high, waving madly to direct its flight path, my efforts proved fruitless. This little winged mite got me pondering a valuable lesson. It struck me: how often do we see what appears to be an open window, rushing through thinking it’s the right step, only to find ourselves trapped and confined?

Recently, I had been approached about teaching art classes again. The thought enticed me with promises of community, the opportunity to make a difference, and of course, the chance to earn some cash. It seemed like the half-open studio window on the ground floor of a big brick building. Little did I know it would lead to feelings of stress and anxiety, trapping me within four walls—much like that poor bird! I could almost sense it yearning for the fresh air, with its feathered friend calling out from the outside.

As I continued my cattle-herding attempts, I hoped the wagtail would find its way out before I had to lock up the studio for the day. Oh, the awkward predicaments we can find ourselves in, just like that stripey- faced wagtail! The lesson was clear: be cautious of opportunities that arise, ensuring they are truly beneficial, and resist the urge to fly through a window that is only partially open.

THE FOLLOW UP: A Lightbulb Moment

Eventually, it dawned on me that if I blocked out the top part of the fixed closed window pane with some paper, it might prevent the bird from fixating on it. Aware that a small pair of beady eyes were watching my every move, I climbed onto my painting stool, armed with prestik and paper. After fastening the three sheets of paper in place, I opened the window below, stepped back, aaaand… ta daaaa! Within seconds, Mr. Wagtail flew straight through the open window. Hoooraaay! Oh, joy of joys!

This experience made me reflect once more on how easily we can be misled when distracted, just like that poor bird. All it could see was the closed window pane, repeatedly crashing into it instead of noticing the wide-open window just centimeters below. It served as a powerful reminder to pay closer attention and block out distractions that rob us of our freedom, joy, and life.