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?

I think this is my third post now about receiving. I keep learning how important it is.

This time last week, a very special rabbit named Cosmo died. He was 9 years old. He’d been sick multiple times, and this time, he didn’t come out the other side. 

At 6 months old, he was a feisty and fearful little escape artist. He was found abandoned in a New York City apartment building cowering in the corner (his favorite place to cower).

I took one look at this terrified little creature, hiding at the back of the cage in the shelter, having clumsily bolted behind his box of hay, and said, yes, that one.

He was with me for 8 and a half years. All this time, I thought I was taking care of him.

2 weeks ago, he started sneezing.

I was leaving for Mexico in a couple days and the boarder was going to bring him to the vet that same day. But he was getting worse leading up to my departure.

The night before he died, I watched him eat and struggle and sneeze. I sobbed, and occasionally laughed at how weird and gross his mouth sounds were.

I hoped it wasn’t the end, but I knew I needed to be with him and express what I needed to in case it was.

I sat on the floor next to him and thanked him for the time we had spent together. 

I thanked him for his presence in my life. I thanked him for moving across the country with me. I thanked him for getting me all the way to Oaxaca and back. I hadn’t planned to take him on that trip, but he needed intense care to remove an abscess. I had to do warm compresses twice a day and squeeze puss out of a tube coming out of his cheek. Then after several weeks, remove the tube myself. It was disgusting.

But those moments, where I got to care for him so intimately, were some of the most meaningful. They were an initiation into a deeper mothering than I had ever experienced.

I noticed myself wanting confirmation that I had done a good enough job. Feeling guilt and self-doubt over the times I wasn’t there or didn’t know what was best. Recognizing that, I emailed my own mother, letting her know she had done her job well, that I was a complete person, thriving and standing on my own two feet. I forgave her, I apologized, and I offered permission for her to release any fear or doubt she may have been holding.

I turned back to Cosmo, having released what I’d been carrying in both directions, as the mother, and the child. I looked in his eyes, my heart open and free, and just listened. 

The air between our eyes warped, like how the air warbles over a flame. Two distinct pulses. I recognize this as energy moving between us. He shifted into a different posture. 

I knew intuitively that he had received what I expressed, and he was now giving something to me. 

Because his nose was stuffy, I could hear each exhale. The rhythm was consistent and specific. He was using his breathing to soothe me. 

From his sweet little furry body, he was beaming his breath and attention, creating a frequency of love, assurance and nurturing. FOR ME. 

I was stunned.

Trying not to assume I knew better than the wisdom of nature, I laid down, closed my eyes and accepted it.

His breathing maintained its rhythm, steady and uninterrupted, as if to say, yes, it is still okay for you to receive. I am here.

I let his energy flow into my body. It felt like magic. It felt like mothering. It felt like love. 

I felt my body progressively relax. Starting with my heart, softening and washing over me in waves. Relaxing my own breathing and my chest, then my throat, my neck, my mouth, my jaw, and releasing tension I’d been holding for as long as I can remember. 

I felt cold air in parts of my nose that had never been open. I cried, humbled by the power of this deep, instinctual wisdom. And his generosity in offering it to me. 

When I got caught thinking “How did I not realize this the whole time” or “I don’t deserve this,” it disrupted the connection. And he simply kept giving, so I let it go, in honor of what was unfolding beyond my understanding.

Putting down my doubts, my stories and my fears unlocked a deeper connection to this being and the insane magic of this weird, wild world. 

Cosmo, I love you. Thank you. I will continue to receive. And I will share your magic rabbit medicine.