I was in a gallery recently. There was a café there and like the rest of the building, it had high ceilings. This particular ceiling had some skylights.
I looked up from my morning snack and saw a bird flying around and around, just below the level of the ceiling, from skylight to skylight, looking for a way out.
Neither of the exit doors from the gallery were visible from where he was, and even if they were, one was an automatic door (which I’m not sure a bird’s physique would open) and the other is a heavy door which is closed unless someone is walking in.
I didn’t know how long the bird had been there, I don’t know how it got in, and equally I didn’t know how it was going to get out. I got the impression that he was flustered, in a flap, scared, flying at speed but seemingly with no idea of where he was looking to go.
Then all of a sudden he changed his pattern, flew off in the direction of one of the doors, around a corner, and gave one patron a huge shock when he flew out the front door just as she opened it. Gone.
A mixture of persistence, changing a tactic, and luck had worked for the bird.
No-one is guaranteed luck, but if you persist, invent, change, imagine new ways of trying things, then the door you are looking to open might just do so – at exactly the right time for you.