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 was planning a blog post about a time this week when I had to set down my expectations and get out of my own way…but something else came out instead, so I had to set down my expectations and get out of my own way. How appropriate. I ended up writing what I needed in that moment: something to help me get in the mood to create when I’m feeling uninspired or resistant. And so, here is my prayer to creativity. I hope it blesses you with a SPARK!

wherever i come from,

willing or…less,

an idea on my soul,

or nothing, just yet.

may the gods crowd around me

and fill up my chest.

may my heart be wide open

to inspiration’s breath.

let my mind be a servant

to gather, then rest,

to surrender its fears

and its thoughts of what’s “best.”

i’m lighting a candle

and making the bed,

so something more precious

can lay down instead.

i’m scattering petals,

a rainbow of colors,

so creativity knows

it belongs in these covers.

i’m singing sweet songs

to entice all the lovers.

to show them it’s safe,

i brought plenty of rubbers.

this is a place 

to be wild and free,

for everything silly 

and sacred to meet.

closing my eyes,

i bough to the tree.

i’m ready to give life

to what’s coming through me.

I often find myself diving deep, into heavy emotion and big transformation. I love it. It’s what I do. But sometimes…it’s a bit much. Sometimes, the medicine I need more is just to play. To imagine. To be silly. So this week, I challenged myself to break out of my usual rhythm and do something different.

I am learning to lighten up.

To fill my cup

with flakes of frosted crystals

that leave sugar dust in lavender milk.

Little sips of silk,

the color moon.

I am learning to dance magic.

Sparkling fingertips,

swirling tornado hips,

enlightening a storm in the air.

I’m writing my own solar system.

A planetary play,

starring…Neptune.

A deep blue mystery,

one leap ahead

of everything I know.

A rainbow bridge that draws itself

one color at a time.

The rest of the poem,

an un-know-em.

Every line

holding its breath

waiting to be whispered into the sky.

A silver slingshot,

launches bright, burning giggles,

that light up the dark as they wiggle.

A pirate ship of treasure dreams

sets sail in open seas.

Where all the rules and threaded spools

unravel at every seam.

Tearing apart the insides of my heart,

so every love vessel is seen.

Let every wave break,

every hardening unmake,

so the river can rage different ways.

Let nature disrobe,

take off all your tight clothes,

so the awe of raw nakedness

speaks.

As our jaws hit the floor,

there’s an unopened door

to a place that our minds never reach.

The mystery zone,

the orangutan’s throne,

where hanging upside down

reigns supreme.

Where the breeze is exposed

to the tips of your toes.

And you don’t have to know what I mean.

Go ahead, flip the script,

to see wild tpircs 

who swing free on a flying trapeze.

Re-jigger your eyes

with a whole new disguise

so there’s no former you to be seen.

And then you’ll be free,

that’s the un-recipe,

to un-think,

to un-know,

to un-be.