THWACK!

I flinch violently as something hits the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a blur of feathers bounce off the glass and tumble downward. I jump up and race over to the door. A small sparrow sits stunned on the stone step. I open the door to get closer and check on it. When I do so, it flies up onto a nearby perch on the rugosa roses. That’s a good sign, but I imagine it shaking its head and thinking, “What the hell just happened!?”

I always feel awful when this happens, and I want to protest. “There are decals on the window! Pay attention!”

But I imagine the bird was caught up in flight, lost in its world, unaware of possible danger, until…THWACK!

I wonder if it will be okay. How it will move forward into the day. How long it will take to recover from the impact. Will it fly more carefully in the future–perhaps hesitate to lift off from that secure branch? Or will it launch itself joyfully into the air, thankful to still be able to fly?

I empathize with the bird. A lot. About two weeks ago, I hit my own sort of window, at least figuratively. I was teaching my class toward the end of the day. Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t. Suddenly there was a black line snaking across the vision in my right eye. Within moments, it looked like someone had scribbled over the world in big, thick lines with a black marker. Within about 5-10 minutes, that had faded away, and essentially only light and shadow remained.

It turns out I’d had a sudden retinal tear that required emergency eye surgery.

THWACK!

Suddenly, my world changed.

My husband says, “What happens to the mind, happens to the body. And what happens to the body, happens to the mind.”

Suffice it to say, it all threw me for a loop. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

I’m on a good path to recovery now, and am grateful for oh-so-many things: my family, my colleagues (who had to write my sub plans for over a week!), having two eyes, visiting friends, medical insurance, access to health care, paid leave, compassionate surgical staff, etc. Oh, and over and over again, I was deeply thankful for the beauty that surrounds my home. So many birds and various creatures flew and ambled through my yard during my long days of not reading, not driving, not bending or lifting, etc. When I wasn’t huddled on the couch, eyes closed, seeking to lose myself in an audiobook, I was most often looking out the windows.

Ultimately, I don’t see the sparrow take off from its perch, but when I look later, it’s gone. I’m going to assume there was a happy ending. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have one, too, but I’ll admit, right now I’m keeping a cautious eye out for unexpected impacts. You just never know.

Of course, chances are, I won’t see it coming. (Thwack!) But if it does come (and something surely will, because…life), chances are also good that I’ll have the support and resources to deal with it. So, I’m moving a little tentatively through my days right now, but I’m seeing the world through a lens of gratitude. And these days, I’m also beyond grateful for all that I can see.