We All Sometimes Feel Like This Bird
That nameless and yet very particular feeling.
My parents found this bird. She fell out her nest and into their back garden. Look at her. Look at her beak and her claws and her huge, bonkers, staring eyes. Look at her, all hunching around. She knows she is not cute. She knows that she is probably not great to have to pick up, all with her weird wet feathers and those feet of hers, but what can she do? This bird is trying her best. Look at her. Look at her face.
Now. Look at my face and tell me that you don’t sometimes feel like this bird. Try tell me you don’t, on occasion, feel distinctly like this bird. You cannot. Admit it. You, me, everyone: we all sometimes feel a little bit like this bird.
Maybe you didn’t get enough sleep last night, or you are hungover, or you have some bad jeans on, or you bumped into someone who thinks you are a nerd, or you have to do some public speaking and you hate it and you are right to hate it because you suuuuuuuuuuuuuck at it, or you tried to introduce yourself to someone and you said their name instead of your name, or you got out of a car in a weird way, or you slipped and fell down in a manner that was not painful and only embarrassing, or you had food in your teeth for many hours and you didn’t know, or you accidentally recommended your own article on Medium and then when you tried to undo it you recommended it again, or you smoked weed even though you should never smoke weed because it is not suited to your temperament, like, at all. There are many reasons to get that feeling. That nameless and yet very particular feeling of being wrong in this world. You have tried to describe it to yourself and to your friends, and you have never quite got there. It’s fine. We have a name for it now. It is called “feeling like this bird.”
Here is a text from my dad, re the bird:
Sadly we have given her over to a bird rescue sanctuary. I miss her already. And the sadder thing is that this morning her parents (hadedas mate for life) were standing on the lawn for aaaages. We discovered the next at the top of the mahogany tree (that one against the fence next to the washing line) so she obv fell out. The parents can’t put them back in the next and nor could we. 😢
POOR BIRD. Poor parents of the bird. It is tempting to think of this as a fully tragic story, like the story of Buddy. But we have enough sad stories to go around for now, thank you. I put it to you that this is not, actually, a tragic story, but rather a story of hope. Take another look at the bird. She is not cute and she knows it. She is maybe worried that no one can love her, on account of her claws and her huge, insane, frightening eyes. But she can rest easy, because you know who loves her? My parents. They think she is a complete legend. They think she is just great and they appreciate her demeanor. My dad sent me many texts about her this morning, in which he went into great detail about her behaviour and movements. He literally described her as “my friend.” My dad’s friend, the bird. He also said that she was “beautiful,” and that if he had kept her as a pet, he would have called her Harriet. I suggested that there was something of the baby dinosaur about her, and he said “she is just trying her best.”
My mum sent me some texts, too, asking me what I thought Harriet the bird was thinking about, and worrying about her parents and what they were thinking about, and wondering what kind of a life Harriet was going to have now, given the unexpected turn it had taken. She thought she was going to probably meet all kinds of interesting people and “probably learn a bit of English.” They took her to the bird sanctuary because they knew it was the right thing to do, but they both miss her so much. They are thinking, even now, that they should just go get her. HARRIET THE BIRD. Their lives are the richer for knowing her.
This is a story of hope. Harriet the bird, with her creepy vibe and her weird personality, is proof that everyone has someone who loves them. Everyone has someone who cares about them, and who thinks they are great, and who will take them to the bird sanctuary when it is necessary. It’s true. Next time you are feeling like this bird, remember that.
