The Adventure of the Unusual Nest

It was the end of April and as is often the case I was walking along a local footpath. Suddenly a small bird fluttered out of a post beside me. 'That's odd' I thought and took a closer look at the post. The top of the post was missing, exposing it's hollow centre. I glanced down the hole to see seven perfect little eggs sitting at the bottom.

I didn't realise it at the time but this unusual nest was going to become important to me over the subsequent weeks. I was in the process on working towards gaining Higher Level Teaching Assistant or HLTA status and achieving it would result in a promotion, more responsibility and better financial prospects. To obtain said status I had to do a huge written task and send it off to be assessed. My assessor would then come and visit me at work and look at the file of evidence to back up the written stuff and also to interview me. 

I worked really hard on the written activities and ended up writing more than 10,000 words, making this a longer piece than my dissertation. I had to send it to the assessor a week before she was due to visit but having completed it I decided to send it off a few days early so as to not have to worry about it over the weekend. My cursor hovered over the 'send' button for what felt like an eternity before eventually committing to the action. As the email left, the anxiety arrived. I felt the butterflies in my stomach as I immediately began to fill with self-doubt. Should I have worked on it for the next few days? Was it any good? With the work sent off my control over it was gone and all I could do was worry. I left work that Friday afternoon feeling deeply uncomfortable. 

The next day I visited the nest and was delighted to see that six of the eggs had successfully hatched. The tiny, pink baby great tits saw movement in the entrance to their nest and opened their mouths optimistically for food to be arrive. I stood watching the tiny chicks for a few moments and time froze. My anxiety was no-where to be seen as I observed the miracle of life.

The following week was tough. The assessor visit loomed and I felt nauseous most of the time as a result. It seemed like the world was finding lots of extra stresses to throw at me too, with additional challenges at work and various others like receiving a speeding ticket in the post. I felt overwhelmed, like I couldn't cope with life. 

It's not that unusual for me to feel anxious about things. In the past though it only tended to be on the day of the event I was anxious about. I'd wake up with my heart racing and would inevitably end up throwing up at some point before the stressful moment. This feeling was new though, a continuous feeling of panic for weeks. I've developed a strategy for when I worry about things where I consider the very worst possible outcome. Usually the conclusion is that the outcome is not ideal but perfectly manageable and I begin to calm down. Here though, failure did not feel like an option. My career prospects and the prospect of being able to move into my own place in the near future depending on a positive outcome. 

The weekend before the assessor was due to visit, I once again checked out the nest. The chicks had grown significantly in a week but it was not all good news. Only four of the six chicks were visible. It's perfectly normal for this to happen in any bird's nest- the two likely didn't receive enough food from the adults or the small space meant there wasn't room and they got crushed my their siblings. 

It felt like an apt metaphor. The adults had lost a third of the chicks they were trying to raise. I felt like I was only running on about 66% normal. But the adult birds wouldn't give up. The goal of raising chicks was still in sight and there was nothing to say they wouldn't be successful. I felt a little calmer after this thought had crossed my mind. 

Three days later and finally the day, and the assessor, arrived. Given how anxious I'd felt about it beforehand, I felt relatively calm on the day. The butterflies remained but kept their flapping to a minimum and I was surprised to find that I didn't end up throwing up. When I sat down to be questioned by the assessor my leg decided to twitch uncontrollably under the table but I was happy to let that go in the grand scheme of things. 

The assessment went well, better than I would ever have dared to hope for. I managed to stay calm and coherent for the interview and my hard work on the written aspect seemed to pay off as the assessor was impressed. Whilst she wasn't officially able to say if I'd passed or not, she very heavily implied that I had. 

I felt drained after all this, exhausted after weeks of not being able to relax properly. That evening I felt an urge to visit the nest once more, knowing that by then the chicks may have fledged. I arrived at the post and peered down to see one nearly fully-formed chick looking up at me. 

The other three had left the nest but one was still hanging on. It was clearly ready as I watched it flap it's wings in anticipation. It was holding back from leaping into the big, wide world, a feeling I could perfectly understand. By the time I returned the following weekend, it had joined it's siblings in leaving the nest. I felt great pride to the parents of these birds who had overcome the many obstacles that the world threw at them. 

We'd been on a journey together, those great tits and me. We'd worked hard to achieve our goals and at times it felt like it wouldn't happen. We both succeeded and the birds helped nudge me in the right direction.