Posts tagged moon
Bunny Magic

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?

Nothingness embrace (a poem for the new moon)

Yesterday was the new moon. This is the phase when the moon is completely in shadow, invisible from Earth. So it’s darker out, which means a time for going inward and letting the inner voice speak.

I love noticing nature’s rhythms. It’s freeing to let go of my agenda and lean into this larger force.

So I did a little ceremony to invite in the energy of the new moon. First, I prepared my space. I turned off most of the lights and lit candles. I put this song on repeat. I tidied up anything that caught my attention. I got myself a glass of water. I made a little altar. A quartz crystal (representing air), a candle (fire), an abalone shell (water) and a lemon (earth).

Curating the environment gave me time to ease in and go deeper. (Like setting context before sharing a poem.)

I did all of this prep, not knowing what would happen. I didn’t set out to write a poem. I just got in the zone, and trusted. Sometimes, I get nervous without a plan or a structure. Okay. That’s there. But I just leaned in - that’s the essence of the new moon. And this came out. And it felt really good.

savor this frequency

the space between

being

hearts silent

connected

retrain my diaphragm

to breathe smooth 

to hold steady

when it wants to slip away

to sip slowly

when it wants to grasp for air

the other muscles

iron out their nervous wrinkles

clear

the darkness

lights a new path

hovering over the old

free to make a different choice

can it be easier?

can I let myself be led

by a softer voice?

one that can’t be heard over the din

of traffic

or reality tv

one that can’t compete

with jagged self-doubt

finer than the comb of “what should I do?”

grander than what’s possible to understand

sometimes

the curtain just opens

and the nakedness of now is center stage

every other voice falls away

nothingness

embrace