I had an unexpected visitor.

I had an unexpected visitor.

A robin.

Of all places, the bird chose my patio table as the site for her nest.

It was 10 feet away from my office desk.

I had a first-hand look through the window.

It was captivating, like a nature show hosted by David Attenborough.

The first baby blue egg appeared a few days later.

Each of the following 3 days, new eggs appeared.

The mom sat on the eggs day and night.

I admired her dedication.

Two weeks later, the eggs hatched into fragile chicks.

Their eyes were shut.

Their bodies were as small as a quarter.

Mom and Dad busied themselves relentlessly caring, feeding, and fostering.

The chicks grew fast.

Within days their eyes opened.

Their skin became covered in fluffy feathers.

Wings started to form.

The patio table was abuzz with life.

14 days later, the chicks were about the size of their parents.

I knew they’d be leaving the nest soon.

I had grown fond of them.

But I worried.

Are they ready?

Then, it was a Sunday.

Something felt different.

Their chirps were deeper.

Their posture was more prominent.

Was today the day?

I had a high school graduation ceremony to attend.

I worried I would miss the maiden flight.

At the graduation, I was preoccupied with thinking about the birds.

I couldn’t help but look at the students and wonder.

Are they ready?

After the ceremony, I rushed home.

When I arrived, I went to the window.

As I looked, the chicks JUMPED OUT of the nest.

The baby robins didn’t fly perfectly.

It was more of a flutter.

To become strong fliers, they must still build up muscles and grow adult feathers.

Then I saw the mama bird fly to the nest.

Worms were in her mouth.

She looked for her babies in the empty nest.

It was bittersweet.

It reminded me of the parents looking at their children at the graduation.

Like the chicks and high school graduates, we may never feel completely prepared for what’s next.

Career moves.

New growth strategies.

Pursuing further education.

Starting a project or initiative.

Readiness isn’t a state of perfect preparation.

It’s the courage to leap into the unknown.

It’s in leaping that we truly learn to fly.

Your wings already exist; all you have to do is to learn to fly.