Like the robin

I have been watching those crazy robins all winter.  They hang around in groups and swoop too close to cars, get caught by nasty old cats, bathe in my fish pond and then begin doing what robins do in spring ---- get ready for babies.


You know something is going to happen when you see robins everywhere because they are  curious and drop in just to see what's going on or to take advantage of the situation, such as after a hard rain when all the worms rise to the surface or are washed onto the sidewalk.  When there is about to be a big weather change, you can be sure the robins will be out in force.

One particular robin, who I have named Rory, beats his head and wings against my dressing room window for hours every morning.  He and I share some of the same frustrations and I have some sympathy for his situation.

Rory has a purpose in life but just hasn't quite figured it out.  He knows he needs to protect his family and himself no matter what.  He is loyal and strong and wants to do his very best.  He just isn't quite so sure how to go about it.  Because he is insecure, when he sees his reflection in my window he attacks it with a great amount of enthusiasm - over and over.

When the sun rises higher and the reflection changes, he thinks he has successfully fought off another predator and saved his family.  His head and his beak hurt, and one wing might be just a little bit tender, but he feels accomplished.  He probably doesn't remember that he did the same thing yesterday, or even just a couple of minutes earlier.   He has no clue that the intruder in the window will reappear tomorrow with the sunrise.


Why does this have particular meaning to me this spring?  Because I feel a little like Rory only with more insight.


I beat my head against the wall sending out resumes, following up with people who say they will help me with networking (many have, others make promises they don't follow through on), meeting with new people, following leads, making uncomfortable cold calls, and dealing with a fair number of oddly irresponsible potential employers.  And some days the only thing that happens is that my wings and beak and head hurt and the same problem occurs all over again the next day, with the rising of the sun.

Some days I don't want to get out of bed, even though I set the coffee pot to wake me up with a fresh pot of coffee (this week it is a nice German Chocolate flavored coffee from Ybor City, Florida).  When I do get up, I am reminded that it may be another day of beating my head against something.  But now that it is spring, I am also reminded that life can be glorious!

I have a couple of things going for me that Rory doesn't.  I have faith.  I know as sure as the sun shines that God is good and I will be ok.  I have choices and I know that tomorrow will dawn with new possibilities.  But Rory and I share that head-banging nonetheless.  I guess mine just has a little more purpose and intelligence, and if I choose not to spend my day sending out resumes, like today, I can go out and enjoy those fabulous cherry blossoms and the amazing Spring weather.  Rory, on the other hand, is still driven to attack his reflection.


I have the same hope Rory does - that the intruder will go away and tomorrow I won't have to do that all over again.  I sometimes wish I had Rory's bird brain so that I couldn't think ahead and rationalize, or have that sense of dread of more of the same thing happening the next day.


Unlike Rory, I know that my head banging is not a fight to the death (Rory is clearly ready for that).  Instead, it will go on until the right thing comes and hopefully I have my beak intact and am not comatose from the head banging.

Meanwhile one of Rory's cousins is doing the same thing with the outside mirror on my car.  Only he perches on top of the car and admires his enemy, then poops all over my car before banging his head into the mirror.  Every morning I rinse the side of the car with a pitcher of water, trying to erase the remains of all those digested worms.

Soon the hormones of the robins will settle down and they will be watching over nests of eggs and teaching fledglings to fly, all the while watching for hawks, crows and other enemies.  And maybe by the time those baby birds are learning to fly, I will grow some new wings, my beak and head will heal and I'll be soaring off to a new adventure and eating something better than worms!