Fight or flight?

'Oh how time flies,' they say. Like the pathetic little wings of a sparrow caught in a surging gale against which he cannot fight.

'Tweet tweet!', he screams out in panic.

I observed such a sparrow only a few days ago, as I took a stroll to the summit of Mt Wellington. I could hear the cries of panic, but when I looked up I couldn't make out his little birdy body, so far above me, against the glare of the overcast sky. I felt his fear, but could do nothing to help him.

I watched as he gave up his pointless fight against the fierce winds. He tucked his wings in an fell from the sky, and something inside me fell with him.

I have been doing my PhD for one year. With the passing time, comes the realisation of how little work I have achieved to date, the rising panic or deadlines unmet, and the guilt that I don't truly deserve to progress from a 'PhD candidate' to a 'PhD student'.

Fight or flight?

The little bird fell from the sky, far below the uncontrollably oscillating winds. But before he hit the ground, the gentle breezes that cushion the ground held out their soft winded fingers. They caught his tiny body from below, and guided him to a new flight path.

'Tweet, tweet!' He looked me in the eye as he flew by.

[Image credit: Philip Turnbull]