Some Hoots, Night Rituals and Reflections

In the quiet solitude of this November night, I can hear the constant call of the owls.  They make me smile in a rather amused way.  Two characters unseen but owning the darkness and lighting it up with their sound.  When they pause, I secretly root for them to begin again.  There’s a comfort in knowing the owls are up in the tall firs in our yard; little friends to keep me company as I try to find drowsiness in this insomnia-come-lately.

I don’t mind the wakefulness until it goes past three and the anxiety kicks in that I won’t fall asleep.  Being in bed past nine a.m. is almost akin to a crime for me.  It wasn’t that long ago that I believed sleeping in was seven o’clock!  More often than not, I’d be up before six on the weekends.  That self and this self would surely have issues.  Early bird versus night owl.

And just like that the owls have stopped their hoots.  I’m back to listening to the more mundane noises of refrigerator whirs and clock ticks.  Time to resume word game apps and an old classic I’m reading again – The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins.

The book was a summer pre-requisite for entering high school.  I was fourteen, and it wasn’t exactly an easy read.  Yet I prevailed not only in getting through it, but actually enjoying it.  Conquering The Moonstone and the rest of that reading list empowered me to believe in my capabilities to learn. 

You see, I didn’t get into this private school right away, though my neighborhood friends had already been accepted.  My mother was disappointed in me.  She’d ask why couldn’t I be like my friend Paula who was nine months younger yet so much smarter than me!  That was not a good endorsement.  I was number seventeen on the waiting list and was away at camp when the acceptance letter arrived in mid-July.  So my inferiority complex was strong for awhile going in to freshan year.

However, reading those books and comprehending them gave me the foundation I needed to succeed in school.  As time went on I tackled Beowulf and Shakespeare by not getting hung up on the verbage.  I read through these and other books and learned how to study.  It was much like solving puzzles, and I loved learning.  I still do.  And as if adding their own approval the owls hoot once again!

About andreamarjulie

Just trying to navigate a life circumvented by chronic migraines. Sometimes I write about managing with those, but at other times I am prone to deviate a bit.
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