If you don’t know this about me, I love rabbits. Bunnies. Bunny rabbits. Whatever you want to call them. If they’re small and soft and hop around, it’s a yes for me. 

I have a rabbit named Gnocchi (pictured above). She’s white with a little brown mustache. It’s hilarious. 

She is third in a lineage of Italian-named rabbits: Gepetto, Cosmo, Gnocchi.

This delights me. 

A friend asked me recently, what is it about them that captivates you?

I got so excited to answer this question I melted into a pool of goo. I had never really put it into words. 

You know how most people react when they see a dog? Their faces light up, they want to be near it, they want to talk to it in a goofy, animated voice. They want to touch it and know its name and be its friend. 

Dogs don’t do it for me. BUT RABBITS…

Talking about them, I feel myself lifted into childlike excitement. My defenses dissolve and my heart softens. Some of my earliest, fondest memories are of the kids’ book, “Pat the Bunny,” which is basically a tuft of hair in a piece of cardboard that you can pet. And boy did I. 

THEY ARE SO SOFT. I’m in awe of the “awwww!” They ignite curiosity and sweetness. They hop around with their little paws and their little tails and their little personalities. They’re funny and wise little tricksters. 

Think Bugs Bunny, the Trix Rabbit, the White Rabbit, rabbit holes. They are the literal magic magicians pull out of a hat.

Across cultures, people have observed the Moon as having an image of a rabbit, over a mortar and pestle, cooking up some magic.

BUNNY MAGIC.

Sub-consciously, we just know they are magical. Like the keepers of some secret formula of silliness.

Some sweet little part of you must be amused if you’re still reading this. Cuz it’s cute. It’s fun. It’s absurd. 

It’s magic. 

Our souls crave it, whether we let ourselves seek it or not. A mystery in the Moon. Something beyond comprehension and reason. Something to keep us fascinated. Amused. Creative. Childlike. Open-hearted. Wild.

That’s divine. That’s spiritual as fuck.

Magic, mystery, delight, LOVE. These things fuel us. They fill our tank when we’re depleted by the daily grind. They transcend time and space and cultural differences. That feels pretty important. And for me, that’s all contained in the captivation I feel when I see a rabbit.

Where’s the bunny magic in your life?

Right now, everything smells like smoke after a much needed smudging of the apartment. 

(If you’ve never burned sage to clear the vibes and don’t know what I’m talking about, hit me up and I will share this magic with you.)

Traveling for 44 days, I was without my toolkit for so long, I’d forgotten what a difference it makes. 

A room that felt heavy and sad five minutes ago (and a me that matched) now feels light and bright.

When I go back to Mexico in a couple days, I will not forget my essentials. Tarot cards, something to burn, a crystal or two, and my new Laughing Buddha.

I bought this little statue in Philadelphia Chinatown. He is shiny, warm gold, with the trim on his robe and his lips painted red. He has a big smile, a big round belly, and is carrying an overflowing basket of treasures.

When I saw him, I knew this was an energy I was missing.

I consider myself a minimalist (and a recovering control freak). I truly believe less is more, and that a simpler, less cluttered life, is a freer, more alive one. The more you have, the more you have to spend time, money and energy caring for. For example, I just cut all my hair off. I am no longer pouring my energy into it, worrying about how it looks, maintaining it and feeling the weight of it on my head.

I love living this way. There’s room for the people and things I really care about.

But this energy, too, can be out of balance. I’ve leaned a little too far in this direction. Pouring too much energy into stripping away and letting go.

Minimalism alone doesn’t force you to focus on what matters. You also have to let yourself enjoy the fruits. That’s what MAGNETIZES you to juicy, abundant deliciousness.

Being depressed for most of my life, growing up with money I didn’t earn, I didn’t feel like I deserved joy or richness. I was desperate to evict myself from entitlement, and ended up with deep unworthiness.

I was so afraid to be the excessiveness around me, I made myself excessively small.

But my Laughing Buddha isn’t worried about being too much, or having too much, or…anything. He’s just full. He radiates joy and abundance, and shares it generously.

That’s what I want. To be so full as to be effortlessly generous. Not to be empty because I’m afraid.

Thank you, little Buddha, for reminding me to be GOLD. Now, get in my backpack, we’re going to Mexico.