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    Home - SPEAK OUT! SPEAK LOUD! - The Parliament of Owls by David Henzell
    SPEAK OUT! SPEAK LOUD!

    The Parliament of Owls by David Henzell

    David HenzellBy David HenzellSeptember 24, 202411 Mins Read
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    SPEAK OUT! SPEAK LOUD!: The following is a creative nonfiction personal essay by UK Sober Curator Contributor David Henzell.


    I am both ready and definitely not ready. I’m up for it but not down for it. Should I stay, or should I go? It’s recovery group day, and my head is in a spiral of indecision. The pillows are cool against my skin, and a soft breeze whispers through the room. My tired eyes search for decisions as my heart pounds with belligerent protests. My brain tries to override my body, but my body is used to having its way. The reasons my brain comes up with to go are no match for my body’s reasons to stay.  

    Slowly, I start to doze. 

    The Veiled Threshold 

    Reality shimmers and dissolves like mist in the morning light in that hazy space between consciousness and slumber. I am standing at the edge of a forest shrouded in perpetual twilight. The trees, with bark like tarnished silver, sway to an unfelt breeze, their leaves whispering unheard secrets. The air hangs heavy with the scent of damp earth, petrichor, and something indefinable – a fragrance that speaks of hidden potential and forgotten memories. Tendrils of fog curl around my ankles, cool and inviting, pulling me gently towards the shadowed depths of the woodland. As I stand here, poised on the threshold, I feel the weight of my past – the addiction that has led me to this crossroads – pressing down firmly upon me. It’s a familiar burden that has shaped the contours of my existence for so long now. Yet, in this liminal place, my body feels less like a shackle and more like a cocoon on the verge of splitting open.   

    What is this?   

    A whisper of wind carries the faintest echo of a distant hoot. The sound resonates within me, awakening something long dormant. With a deep breath that draws in not just air but the very essence of this mystical place, I take my first step into this forest, which is drenched in the embers of a twilight that stirs with the promise of something new. Yes, that’s what it is: the Twilight Forest of Renewal. 

    The Luminous Glade 

    Time seems to lose all meaning as I walk deeper into the forest. The mist ebbs and flows around me, occasionally parting to reveal glimpses of otherworldly beauty – flowers that glow with bioluminescence, streams that flow uphill, and stones that hover just above the forest floor. Each sight defies logic yet feels profoundly right in the context of this dream-like realm.  

    The trees, which had seemed imposing and foreboding at the forest’s edge, now feel protective. Their gnarled trunks and spreading branches form arches and corridors, guiding my path. I suddenly realize I am not simply wandering aimlessly but being led to something special, somewhere unique and remarkable. 

    As if in response to this very thought, a clearing emerges in the trees. It takes my breath away. Bathed in an ethereal luminescence that emanates from the air, the clearing is a perfect circle of lush grass and wildflowers. But it is not simply the beauty of this place that causes me to gasp in wonder. It is its inhabitants. 

    I see owls before me, perched on the branches of the majestic trees forming this natural amphitheater. Dozens, perhaps even hundreds of owls—of every size and species imaginable, and some that defy imagination altogether. Their feathers gleam with an inner light, and their eyes, like galaxies, are filled with the wisdom of ages and the depths of shared experience. 

    With a mixture of awe and trepidation, I realize I have entered some grand meeting of the minds, like a parliament. Yes, the fabled Parliament of Owls—the guardians and guides of this beautiful realm. Despite its magical strangeness, this gathering vibrates with an energy familiar to me—yes, the realm of recovery.  

    The Silent Chorus 

    Unlike meetings back in the world I left, no words are spoken here. Yet communication flows. The owls’ gazes meet mine, one after another, each connection sparking a cascade of understanding within me. Emotions, memories, and insights flood my consciousness. 

    A barn owl with feathers that seem woven from moonbeams conveys welcome and acceptance. Its heart-shaped face radiates a warmth that melts the icy fear in my chest. Through our silent exchange, I implicitly know that I’m welcome in this place, The Glade of Souls Renewed, where the shadows of past selves meet the light of future possibilities.  

    And over there, a great horned owl—its feathers the deep brown of rich earth—transmits wisdom about navigating the inner landscape of emotions and the outer world of practical challenges. Its steady gaze speaks of resilience and the strength to face adversity.  

    Almost invisible in the dancing light, a tiny elf owl shares the profound importance of finding joy in small moments. Its presence is a subtle reminder that healing often comes in whispers rather than shouts.  

    Each silent interaction creates a kind of awe within me, memories, emotions, and realizations. I begin to understand that this Parliament of Owls is more than just a gathering of wise beings. It is a manifestation of collective experience, shared struggles and triumphs, and the universal journey toward healing and self-discovery. 

    The Dance of Light and Shadow 

    Absorbing the silent wisdom of the owls, I become aware of a curious phenomenon. The light in the forest is in constant, subtle flux. It shifts from the silver glow of twilight to the golden warmth of dawn and back again in a never-ending cycle. 

    This eternal dance of dusk and dawn seems to pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat. In these twilight hours, shadows deepen, echoing past struggles and moments of despair that resonate with my experiences. These shadows, rather than being threatening, feel like necessary contrasts – the dark backdrop against which pinpoints of light can shine all the brighter. 

    As the light shifts toward dawn, hope swells within me. The brightening glade reveals new perspectives, illuminating paths forward that I have never considered before. In this interplay of shadow and radiance, I see my addiction not as a monstrous entity to be battled but as an integral part of my journey toward recovery. 

    And the owls? They move with the changing light, their silent flights creating intricate patterns in the air. Sometimes, they move in perfect synchronicity, dozens of wings beating as one. At other times, they scatter in seeming chaos, only to reform in breathtaking formations. This surreal dance is a visual representation of the recovery journey. There are moments of clarity and confusion alongside times of unity and solitude, all forming part of the greater whole.  

    The Alchemy of Shared Flight 

    As the cycles of dusk and dawn continue, the boundaries between me and the forest begin to blur. Am I watching the owls, or have I become one of them? The distinction seems increasingly irrelevant. I am dissolving and reforming, my consciousness expanding to encompass the entire glade and forest. 

    In this state of expanded awareness, I experience the true magic of the Parliament: the alchemy of community. Individual identities merge and separate, each unique story and perspective blending into an extraordinary tapestry of shared experience. This is a vivid representation of how, in unity, individual struggles are not erased but transformed. 

     I understand this to be the beating heart of all recovery groups in the waking world: it’s not just about individual healing but about creating a network of support where each thread strengthens the whole. The concept manifests in this forest realm, visible in the air around me. 

    The Moulting: A Metamorphosis of Spirit 

    Yet, this experience is not without its challenges. There are moments when the wisdom of the owls seems to fade when the dancing light becomes disorienting rather than illuminating. In these moments, I feel the old pull of my addiction, the temptation to flee back to the world of known shadows. In an instance of doubt, I witness something extraordinary. The very fabric of the forest begins to shift, and I find myself undergoing what can only be described as a profound transformation.  

    I am moulting, shedding old layers of self like an owl sheds its feathers. 

    It’s uncomfortable, even painful at times. Old beliefs, habits, and fears fall away, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed. But with each layer shed, I feel lighter, more transparent, and brighter. New aspects of myself emerge, sparkling with potential. 

    This moulting is not a singular event; it’s a continuous process, mirroring the cyclical nature of the forest’s light. Right then, I understand that my recovery—and my whole life—is not simply a linear journey. It’s akin to a series of shedding and renewal, with each cycle bringing me closer to my most authentic self.  

    Awakening to Flight 

    As time flows in this forest’s strange, fluid way, I notice changes in myself. My perceptions have sharpened, allowing me to see nuances in the dancing light I had previously missed. Once overwhelming in its complexity, the silent language of the owls begins to form patterns I can see, believe in, and embrace.  

    I find myself contributing to the Parliament’s silent communion, sharing my experiences and my hard-won wisdom. This is a profound realization. I am no longer just a seeker in this realm but a participant, a fledgling member of this wise assembly.  

    With this realization comes a brand-new sensation—the unfurling of wings—not mere physical wings but an inner pair, strong and sure. I have gained the ability to navigate not only this dream forest but also the challenges of the waking world. 

    The Return Journey 

    Allowing these feelings to sink in, I feel a subtle shift in the air. The mist that has been a constant presence at the edges of my awareness begins to thicken and swirl in ever-tightening circles. The owls’ silent presence grows distant, their wisdom receding like the tide.   

    Panic grips me momentarily, a fear of losing this profound connection. Then, my understanding dawns. The forest of recovery—the Parliament of Owls—exists within me now. Their wisdom has become a part of my very being, their silent songs echoing in the chambers of my heart. As the mists envelop me completely, I’m falling or maybe flying – it’s impossible to tell which. Images flash before my eyes: the luminous glade, the dancing light, the wise eyes of countless owls. And then…   

    I am awake.  

    Echoes of Twilight 

    The familiar surroundings of my room come into focus, the pale light of early morning seeping through the gaps in the blinds. For a moment, disorientation washes over me. Was that all just a dream? 

    Sitting up in bed, I feel different. The weight of addiction—my constant companion—is not simply gone but transformed. My heavy burden transfigured into a beautiful gift: the wisdom that led me to embrace this profound change.  

    I can still feel the transformative power of the Twilight Forest pulsing within me. Dream or vision? I know it doesn’t matter. What matters now is what I do with the insights I have gained. 

    In the days that follow, I find myself in rapture. The wisdom of the Parliament influences my choices, interactions, and very way of being. I seek out recovery groups in the waking world, and while they don’t have the magical ambiance of the Twilight Forest, I sense the same spirit of shared experience and collective wisdom. 

    There are always challenges, of course. Moments when the pull of old habits feels overwhelming when the path of recovery seems too difficult to traverse. But in those moments, I close my eyes and find myself back in the luminous glade, surrounded by the silent support of countless owls. 

    Recovery is not a destination but a continuing odyssey. Each day brings new opportunities for growth, helping others, and strengthening the wings of my spirit. The dance of dusk and dawn continues within me, reminding me to embrace the shadows of my past and the light of my potential. 

    Sometimes, in the subtle hours between night and day, I still sense a familiar presence—a reminder that I am not alone on this journey. That somewhere, in a realm between dreaming and waking, a gathering of wise owls is silently supporting my flight, celebrating each small victory, and waiting to welcome me home. 

    The Parliament of Owls has become one with me, a sanctuary I can return to in moments of need and a wellspring of wisdom I can draw from in times of doubt. Its magic stays with me, a guiding light on the winding path of life—a path I now navigate with wings unfurled, ready for whatever challenges and wonders lie ahead. 


    David Henzell Sober Curator Contributor UK + Poland

    Learn more about David Henzell HERE.



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    David Henzell splits his time between the UK & Poland. He is a practicing addiction therapist, one time hider in the light, creative, postmodern muse and would be flaneur.

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