Stuck

The bird was stuck inside my screened window, the wind was blowing strong — I saw her there, saw the terror in her eyes. I’d never seen a bird in distress that close up, and I thought, be still, I can get you out. Being still was not what this bird understood.

I talked to her softly. It’s okay, come on, let me open it for you. Don’t hurt yourself. I’m going to open the screen more so you can…

I opened the window, a gust of air met her, and out she flew, flapping wildly. She left some feathers in the window; she left an image I was not soon to forget.

So many times I feel stuck, too much anxiety to think, flailing like that bird caught in my window.

I remember a scary time on Martha’s Vineyard. I was swimming in the ocean, the waves had gotten bigger — I looked around and realized I had been taken too far out from the shore. I tried not to panic, saw my husband waving at me on the beach to come in. Evan had been a lifeguard. I had not. He was shouting to me — I couldn’t hear him, I felt the waves taking me further out, I tried to power through them. I couldn’t. I was so tired. I couldn’t get control. Evan swam out to me and I did everything you’re not supposed to do. I grabbed him around the neck. I hung on, terrified.

“Get on top of it,” he shouted. “Ride the wave in.”

I couldn’t. I was too scared. But he steadied me. Then I saw what he meant, the waves could bring me in, and somehow we rode them back to safety.

I knelt on the beach; never had sand felt so good. “I almost died,” I said.

“No, you didn’t. I would have knocked you out if I had to and dragged you to shore.”

“Lifeguards do that?”

“Only as a last resort.”

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