Bats in my Belfry

It had been an ordinary night.


I had just finished writing for the evening and I was heading downstairs to watch Single Ladies on VH1, my unapologetically guilty pleasure for that summer. I was content, relaxed and happy to have made some more progress on my novel. I was also a little tired, too, and craving some chocolate. But that's beside the point.

As I walked down the stairs in my apartment...WHOOSH! Something small flapped its wings right past my head. Wait a minute...what was that?

It took a second for me to realize: it was a bat. And it was currently inside my house. I rushed to close the doors leading into the dark living room where it had just flown, surprising myself with just how calm I was being. Not a scream. Not a whimper. Just a, "What the hell?" uttered in slight amusement to myself. I live in a 100 year old castle-like building in a reasonably wooded area. A lot of history here. I guess it was about time to have my first, slightly gothic "visitor".

I rushed upstairs and called the campus police who I knew would be able to handle this and alert Animal Control. As I went back downstairs, satisfied that my new visitor was sufficiently contained, I sat down on the steps waiting for help to arrive. I could hear the bat flapping around within my living room, bumping into things as it went, apparently lost and out of sorts. All I could think was, Really? Is this really happening? A new energy was within my house quite suddenly and it was something I had absolutely no control over.

Then I heard it: some more flapping to my left. But the living room was to my right. How could this be happening? I peeked my head around the corner and looked into my entry hallway. There it was, lying under the heater and crawling with his webbed appendages. It was tiny and scrappy. And you guessed it: it was a second bat.

Now it was at this point that I started to freak out a bit, ran back upstairs, grabbed my keys and my phone and got the heck out of Dodge. I could take one contained bat. A second, just a few feet away? No way, Jose.

Perhaps the reason that I did not completely bail upon seeing the first bat was because I had been conveniently distracted. An old friend had contacted me out of the blue recently. And when I say old friend I, of course, mean old flame. But really, it hadn’t been entirely surprising to hear from this person. He had been on my mind for the past week without any explanation. And inevitably whenever this happens I will hear from him shortly thereafter. I have always had a strange intuition when it comes to this one person.

Hearing from him has always been bittersweet. My heart still skipped a beat when I saw his name pop up on my phone that summer. A lot of history there.

But he moved on. Big time. And so did I. And I have made my peace with the situation. I truly wish him well.

But still.

I couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit unsettled because he had reached out. It's like no matter how far I had come, whenever he contacted me I would always feel a little lost and out of sorts, still processing the past. If the bats had come in through my chimney that night (a possible explanation) and dove down to explore my house, was I just doing the same by engaging with this person? Diving down into the shared history of our past and heading into the dark in the process?

I couldn't help but think the bat was some kind of symbol, a weird message, an animal totem of sorts related to my situation. It had mysteriously appeared within my inner sanctum just like the message had appeared from the old flame. Neither had been planned and both were a bit upsetting, stirring things up inside (one literally and one figuratively). Was the bat supposed to mean something more?

After a little research I discovered that bats are seen as a "symbol of rebirth, transition and change" and possess an energy that encourages "the ability to see through illusion or ambiguity and dive straight to the truth of matters." Furthermore, it symbolizes a "need to release the outmoded ways of doing things to permit a new, better way to enter your life because your old habits no longer suit your new opportunities."

That sounded kind of promising to me. I couldn't change my situation with this person. But I could move on, leave the past in the past and make a real transition from where I had been. There was new energy to harness. And, bat or no bat, I was realizing I was ready.

Animal Control showed up close to 45 minutes later and (gulp) went in. He caught one of the bats and let me know this through the door. He couldn't find the other one even though he looked for close to 30 minutes. After my own inspection, I felt safe enough to let him go home, agreeing that it had probably gone back up the chimney to get out. The bats had left the building.

Could they return? Possibly. And could the old flame appear again, as well? Perhaps. But my ability to handle "visits" would improve, too. I'd know to not be alarmed. To not dive down deep. To see clearly and not wander around in the darkness of a past that’s passed. Most, I would know I’ve moved on for good.