I found a speckled-belly wood thrush lying on the ground below my window today. I picked it up and held it in my hand. It was still a bit warm. I rubbed its belly gently looking for a glimmer of life as I’ve seen my bird-loving husband do—as he so gently coaxes many little fellows back to life who had gone face to face with a window. I don’t seem to have my husband’s magical powers.
I was sad and I wondered why it flew right into glass that was so clearly surrounded by metal and wood siding. To me, the window bears no resemblance to the blue sky or tree top canopies of green foliage, but then again, I have made wrong decisions even though I could see all the warning signs and sailed on full speed ahead.
The majority of our window-crashing birds have managed to fly away with only a severe headache and a lesson to beware shiny enclosures. As humans, we too can learn from our failures. I listened to a very successful women, Barbara Corcoran, on a NPR podcast and she said something similar to this, “I try not to be so hard on myself. Of all my many failures, success came right after.” She was talking about a successful career and her words have been ringing in my ears since.
I took what she said more towards my daily life and how I so often fail by what I do or say. I beat myself up and allow my mistakes and failures to take me low and defeat me. This defeat is as bad as the failure. I should follow the example of my feathered friends who took a near death blow but lived, and Barbara Corcoran—shake it off, heed the warning signs next time, determine to do better, then spread my wings and soar.
