I went to a party when I was a student and they had a mynah bird

Hear the curious yet luminous words of Derren Brown, who spoke of his youth: “I went to a party when I was a student and they had a mynah bird up in the bedroom where people put their coats. I was completely captivated—I just sat there all night talking to it. The next day I passed a pet shop and they had a conure—it’s a little parakeet—in the window. I bought it, not knowing what it was or how to look after it.” At first glance this may seem but a tale of happenstance, of a boy enchanted by a bird. Yet beneath its surface lies a profound truth: that the soul, once touched by wonder, is drawn to action, even without understanding.

The mynah bird, speaking from its perch, represents the voice of the unexpected—the sudden encounter that stirs something dormant within us. Brown did not seek wisdom that night; he went to a party. Yet while others laughed and feasted, he sat alone with the bird, drawn into communion with mystery. This is how many callings begin: not in planned ambition, but in surprise. Life whispers from strange corners, and the heart, if open, listens.

The following day, the conure in the window appeared like a messenger, sealing the memory of the night before. Brown confesses that he purchased it without knowledge, without preparation, without foresight. And yet, this impulsive act carries the essence of humanity’s striving. How often do we leap toward the unknown, compelled not by reason but by the fire of fascination? Such leaps have built civilizations, discovered continents, and unlocked secrets of the stars. The parakeet is more than a bird—it is the symbol of the human spirit’s hunger for wonder, even when unready.

The ancients knew this power of sudden fascination. Think of Archimedes, who stepped into his bath and, upon seeing the water rise, leapt out crying “Eureka!”—not because he had sought discovery, but because it had come upon him unbidden. Or consider Columbus, who set sail across the ocean not fully knowing what lay ahead, yet compelled by a vision of something beyond. Like Brown with his conure, they moved forward without all the answers, because wonder itself demanded action.

There is also a teaching here about ignorance and learning. Brown admits, “I did not know what it was or how to look after it.” This is humility. For beginnings are never perfect, and true wisdom often begins in mistakes. One cannot master without first fumbling; one cannot care without first learning. The willingness to act without full knowledge is risky, but it is also the path to growth. Those who wait until they know everything before acting often never act at all.

And yet, his story also warns us: fascination without responsibility can be dangerous. To take on a living creature—or any great task—without preparation may lead to harm. The lesson is not to avoid wonder, but to temper it with care. The balance is to let fascination spark action, but to let responsibility guide the next steps. For the fire that begins the journey must be fed by knowledge if it is to endure.

Thus the teaching is clear: treasure the moments when wonder seizes you, when something unexpected captivates your soul. Do not dismiss them, for they may be the seeds of destiny. Act upon them, even imperfectly, for beginnings are often clumsy. But once you act, commit yourself to growth, to responsibility, to learning. For wonder opens the door, but wisdom builds the home.

So let your action be this: when you feel captivated—by a creature, an idea, a craft, or a calling—do not ignore it. Step toward it, even if you do not yet know the way. But as you step, resolve to learn, to nurture, to honor what you have taken on. For in doing so, you follow the rhythm of all great journeys: fascination, action, growth, and mastery. As Derren Brown teaches, even a parakeet in a shop window may awaken a lifelong path, if only you dare to begin.