Talking to the Birds
Courtesy of a trapped sparrow
On Wednesday I woke to what can only be described as a right old kerfuffle happening outside my window. I recognised the sound as two pigeons fighting, (or doing whatever it is two pigeons do). A noise somewhere between a deck of cards being shuffled and the repeated slapping of a wet towel. I went to the window for my usual “come on lads, break it up”, but found no pigeons in sight. The noise now even more frantic, I looked up to see a tiny terrified sparrow trapped between my window and the curtain.
Now, I say trapped because this was very much his perceived reality in that moment. Both you and I would consider the gaping open window from which he came a clear exit strategy, but little Jack, as we shall name him, had instead chosen to recycle his own torment by persistently hurling himself at the same spot of glass in the hope of freedom.
It was heartbreaking to see and I wanted to help him. Not just for his benefit, but also because his panic was causing him to shit all over my windowsill. As I tried to gently guide him towards the opening, he got even more stressed out, not listening to reason despite my best impression of a small bird (I was running out of ideas). Due to it being a sash window, and him being such a liability, opening the window any further would risk him getting trapped between the panes, locked in as a permanent artefact in his own museum of mistakes. So I got a saucepan in the hope I could catch and release. Obviously my approach with a saucepan did not quell his fear (cue more shitting), he relentlessly resisted, yet was likely to get hurt if I was forceful. Frustratingly, my rescue attempts seemed futile and I would soon be running late to get to a meeting. However, feeling so much compassion for this poor little guy, who was now vibrating ferociously in what looked like a mini sparrow panic-attack, I made the decision to be late and patiently waited. In an attempt to calm him down, I sang him a little song in the hope he’d receive my ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ vibes and appreciate my northern lilt as a musical gift. Slowly, still vibing, I brought the pan towards him, and to my delighted amazement, he got in! As I closed the lid he stayed totally still, just gazing up at me through the glass lid. It was weird, we’d been through quite an ordeal together by this point. I took him to my balcony (away from the site of trauma) and opened the pot. After a pause, he hopped up onto the side, his little talons gripping the rim as if questioning what to do next. A few seconds more, and he flew away.
Later that day, I was sat with a client who’s caught in a cycle of unhealthy relationship behaviours. Each time repeating the same pattern yet somehow believing the outcome will be different. I couldn’t help but think of Jack smashing his head against that window.
We can easily get ourselves a little stuck. Yet rather than calmly assessing our expanse of options, we often focus only on the block in front of us. Continuously pushing up against it in exhausting confusion. Jack’s approach was never going to get him what he needed, but in that moment he knew no different, and taking a chance by going another direction required trust and a leap of faith. It can be scary to change our behaviour, even if we can see that our current one isn’t serving us. Our world suddenly becomes very small, and we might not take the pause to look around and see there’s someone there to help us.
Psychotherapy is a bit like aiding that trapped sparrow. The therapist is there to help, guide, navigate a different way. But it’s up to the client to find the courage to trust in the process. To engage with the uncertainty of change. To connect with their vulnerability, so they can negotiate their pain and rediscover their freedom.
It was an odd way to start my day, but that little birdie has really stuck with me. I hope his distress is now long forgotten and he’s out there living his best sparrow life. Or perhaps he simply went home to his family, recounting yet another exhausting morning trying to teach humans how to be free.
Jack’s Teachings
Repeating the same behaviour over and over again and expecting a different result is exhausting, will drive you crazy, and will never get you what you want (insert overused insanity quote here).
It takes courage, but becoming unstuck requires taking a risk to make a change. Perhaps taking a leap into the unknown.
Sometimes we need a little help, and we shouldn’t be afraid to ask for, or accept that help. It could save us a lot of time and pain.
…And if someone does try and help you, it’s actually quite rude to shit on their windowsill.
Wise words with a vivid concrete example. Thanks!