Dear Owl: Vol. 2

owl-profileDear Owl,

Forgive me. It’s been three weeks since my last confession letter.

[Note: This is a little joke. Some of us humans, not including me, meet with men called “priests” at a church seeking guidance and absolution. They call this “Confession,” and nearly every single depiction I’ve seen of this in our theatre and literary arts begins with this plea for forgiveness and a declaration — measured in weeks, months, years even — of just how much this Confession practice has been neglected. Spend enough time with humans, and you’ll find many of us REALLY struggle with guilt and shame.]

Anyway, I hope you are well. I’m still hearing you each night, and to be honest, it’s a mixed blessing. I truly wish I wasn’t waking regularly at 2:00, 3:00, or 4:00 in the morning, given that uninterrupted, restorative sleep is so precious to humans with my medical condition. However, when I’m lying in bed in the darkness, unable to just quickly drift back to sleep and I hear your call — Hoo, Hoo, Hoo-HOO — I do feel comforted by you. Your call has taught me to stay relaxed when I wake up prematurely, to allow myself to be soothed by your gentle hooting, rather than wallowing in frustration and misery over being awake when I’d prefer not to be.

Thank you.

In other news, there’s this crazy thing happening to us humans: this Covid-19 pandemic. I wonder if you know somehow. Perhaps you, like the plants, hear things on the global mycelial network that we have been learning much more about lately. Well, if not, suffice to say, it’s bad. It’s a global crisis. Thousands have died, the daily routines for nearly every individual human as well as most organizations, institutions, companies, and economies has been disrupted. Maybe you’ve noticed that my wife and I rarely leave the house, or that hardly anyone has come, parked their car, and stayed a while for a visit.

Needless to say, this health crisis adds considerably to the hardship I’ve already been enduring thanks to ALS, and though it might seem cold to say it, knowing that I am just one suffering person amongst millions and millions is no consolation at all.

I continue to occupy my time with a mixture of nourishing activities and wholesale distraction. The former: reading and writing; staring out the window at the forest I’m privileged to live beside, and at spring — normally so hope-inducing — budding out everywhere; or even getting things done like paying bills that, if neglected, would add more stress, video chatting with friends and family. The latter: TV, movies, TV, movies, etc., etc.

There’s one other time consuming activity I’m engaging in daily, and alas it’s actually time for my daily nap right now.

Until next time, take care, dear Owl. I hope the hunting’s going well, and from what I understand, you may currently have owlets growing in eggs in your nest.

How exciting!



2 thoughts on “Dear Owl: Vol. 2

  1. Love you Howard. I’m praying for you and I’m often up at those same odd hours just pondering and finding comfort that you too may be up and pondering. -Kurtis

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, brother! Love you!


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