A Family that Howls Together Stays Together.
How I brought something primal back to my family.
I thought wolves howled at the moon. Then I read somewhere that “Wolves aren’t howling AT the moon, they're howling FOR each other.”
My eyes flew wide. I looked around from side to side. I felt sad for that wolf who yearned to know where their loved ones were. I could relate to that wolf. I felt for ME. And that's when everything changed.
I raced home. I found my partner Dan, and our twenty-five-year-old son Sawyer, and said Guys I gotta tell you something really important. I relayed this fact about the wolves. I looked at them like, Whaddya say we howl for each other, too?
These guys and I are VERY close. But they looked at me like, Say what?
Well, you won’t get anywhere just theorizing about whether to howl for your family – if you want to test whether it has any value, you’re going to have to actually try it.
The next day, when I arrived home from a meeting, I saw both of the guys’ cars in the driveway so I knew this was my chance. I bounded onto the front step, burst through the door, and instead of calling out my normal “I’m hooooome,” I threw my head all the way back, so my nose was pointed up toward the ceiling and my neck was stretched to its fullest, and I belted out a long howl that quavered up and down as I drew out the notes.
“Aroooooooooooooo!!!”
I keened my ear. Silence. I took a deep breath and did it again.
“Aroooooooooooooo!!!”
Silence. One more time.
“Aroooooooooooooo!!!”
Then. From some faraway spot in the house came a faint “Aroooooooooooooo!!!” Chills crawled up my neck. My call into the unknown, asking for possibility, yearning for belonging, security, and that feeling of Yes, I’m here too, had been received AND reciprocated. I felt instinctively safe, and also deeply satisfied, and even, if I may say so, a little delighted.
It’s been a few weeks, and the three of us now howl for each other on a regular basis. So if someone in our community is worrying that the wolves or coyotes have breached the perimeter of Palo Alto, you can tell ‘em no. It's just a Lythcott-Haims.
Our howl has supplanted, “I’m hoooooome,” and even, “Hi how are you/I’m fine how are you.” We’re usually in different parts of the house when we do it, but sometimes when we’re in the same room, someone will throw out a little howl, and their tone and volume will be a little subdued, like more of a friendly growl, because the humans in us might feel a tad silly throwing our heads up to the ceiling and letting out a loud “Aroooooooooooooo!!! when the other person is literally standing right there.
Still. Secretly, I’ll confess, I wouldn’t mind the full howl with my loved one standing right there. The language of the howl (and growl) speaks to the animal parts of me, and I LOVE going there. *It’s probably also good for my mental health!*
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What kinds of rituals – whether plain or downright strange – are the special language of YOUR family, which let you know that you’re a part of something you feel grateful to belong to? Comment below.
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And if you feel like metaphorically howling at me - call my hotline 1-877-HI-JULIE. Or write me at P.O. Box 2022, 3790 El Camino Real, Palo Alto, CA 94306. In these challenging times, I can be another wolf you howl for.
xo
I love this! My 4th grade class and I howled good night to the coyotes on our overnight. I am pretty sure my family has howled, meowed and barked for each other more than once. Often though, it’s also punchlines from family jokes!
No wonder the wolf howl is so lonely and eerie - they are just connecting through space rather than forlongly filling the night. I certainly feel different listening to them than I do listening to great horned owls hoot to each other. This was a good lesson, Julie.
The kids loved the song "Four Hugs a Day" (not the maximum, just the minimum) so when I write to them (no, letters do not return to me but write I do) or email I end with xoxoxoxo. It also works with text signoffs.
The little "family-shared moments" are precious and binding, even when outgrown. Some remain constant and some unspoken. I trust they know we are here and they are always welcome for the day or as their port in the storm when things go terribly unplanned. It's the little things that create a shared history and a lifelong thread to each other. Thanks for the reminder to howl.