The Rabbit Hole

Alice: “How long is forever?” 

Rabbit: “Sometimes, just one second.” Lewis Carroll

They say everything can change in the blink of an eye. The older I get, the more I know this to be true. When you think about it, our entire life is a mere bleep in the scope of time, and yet it can seem like forever.  

My understanding of what actually qualifies as life is continually expanding. Recently, I decided to include the grass, now dotted with dandelions, because when I stand on the plush lawn in my bare feet for ten minutes, everything changes.

Is it the grass, the soil, or some invisible current that runs beneath all things, that somehow grounds me in a way nothing else can?

All I know is I am ever so grateful for the fluctuations of the seasons. They not only illuminate the passage of time, but without them, I would be perpetually cocooned in a puff jacket, unable to emerge, to move, to breathe.

Or redecorate, but that’s obvious. 

Here’s how I see it. If our lives are shaped by the things that attract or repel us, I’m going out on a limb, and say it is our duty to enhance the world with our unique vision.

This year, I bought two black cast-iron bunnies to go with the table runner I have strategically placed down the center of our rustic farm table. It’s true, I was trying to be symbolic, but ended up with something much more prolific.

While I was playing with my delightful decor, it dawned on me that black bunnies as Easter decorations might be considered odd. But I just smiled. The thing is, I lost all my estrogen a few years back, I’m no longer sweet, and I don’t care what people think. Okay, that’s a lie, I care, but not nearly as much.

As I lend a critical eye to my newly endowed table, I realize something is missing. 

It’s the cast-iron bunnies. They look stiff, as if their essence was haphazardly poured into a mold and simply allowed to harden. I know this is how we cast iron, but when you think about it, it’s also how humans are formed, except we’re hallowed instead of hollow. Get it?

I’m slightly dyslexic and always thought those words meant the same thing. Maybe I need to noodle on that some more. 

Anyhoo…the table scene is lacking. It needs some imagination, so I tie these pink embroidered flowers around their necks, and that does the trick. 

As I’m admiring my ridiculously adorable rabbits, I feel a shift in the room.

Larry is like the wind when he enters a space. He stops at the table and bellows, “What are these?” Lifting one of my adorable figurines in the air by its ears!

I state the obvious, “Bunnies.” My tactic is to keep it simple when being interrogated.

“What’s wrong with the ones from last year?”

I give him a quizical look and calmly say, “These bunnies are cast-iron.”

“What the hell does that have to do with Easter?

“It’s Spring, honey, you know the saying, out with the old, in with the new,” then I quickly add, “Let’s just hope they don’t hump.” I giggle, he does not, so I say, “I have to dash, light treatment today.”

I left him standing there holding the bunny with a most peculiar look on his face. Maybe he didn’t hear me? 

Did you know the meaning of black bunnies varies from culture to culture? I didn’t either. 

So I did a little research. Very scholarly. And found out they are considered symbols of transformation, representing the shedding of old habits and illustrating the potential for enormous change. 

Who knew?

Not just any change, because that is always happening, more of a metamorphosis, a reshaping, maybe even a transfiguration! 

Work with me, people. 

It’s almost Easter, and as we’re preparing to celebrate one of the most radical transformations ever, I bought black bunnies. 

It’s either ironic or iconic.

Not everyone believes that a young man, born in Bethlehem around 6-4 BCE, who worked as a carpenter, could actually change the entire world in as little as three years, without the internet, televisions, phones, or an arsenal of weapons. But he did.

Was he God? 

That’s for you to decide, but damn, he had some very cool messages to share with the world. 

The author Robert Green warns us against falling prey to confirmation bias, only looking for information that supports our current beliefs, because he claims, we’re deathly afraid of encountering contradicting ideas that challenge the way in which we were cast. 

Meaning, the way our essence was molded and cast by our parents, our culture, politics, peers, traditions, even our faith, or lack thereof. 

Here’s what we know. Jesus consistently challenged the local authorities and religious leaders by staying true to his beliefs even when his life was in danger. One time, he saved a woman who was about to be stoned to death for committing adultery by calmly instructing the growing mob, all packing stones, “Whoever is without sin, may cast the first stone,” and guess what, everyone walked away. 

Everyone. Turns out, we all sin, but there’s an underlying message most of us miss. Our worth is not diminished by our mistakes. Read that out loud. Let it sink in. 

He said to the girl, “Is there no one left to condemn you?”

She says, “No, sir.” 

He responds, “Then neither do I.”

What was true in Jesus’ day is true today. People in power do not like to be challenged. Jesus was crucified around 30 CE for being disruptive while thousands of people were pouring into Jerusalem to celebrate Passover. That’s the facts, he died, was buried, and some people believe that he rose on the third day, made several appearances to his despondent disciples, and then ascended into a different realm, referred to as heaven.

It’s a wild story, but the juicy part is all the radical teachings he left behind, which we’re still trying to wrap our heads around. Historically, we’ve been pathetically unsuccessful, but that’s not the point. The movement he created is still viable, it’s just not fully realized. 

It’s like the women’s movement; it’s not perfect, but we get to vote.

Jesus was big on love, but loving God and each other involves a transformation of the heart, and just like heart surgery, it’s extremely dangerous, because it disrupts the status quo. His way of loving was inclusive, inviting, protective, generous, expansive, but it was not just a feeling. He was calling us to action, prying us away from our own selfish interests, and moving us towards a more compassionate response to our fellow travelers. 

We annoy each other, I get it, but he asks us to consider our own faults before pointing out misconduct in others. 

Larry and I emulate this perfectly!

He was a total extrovert, focused on relationships, breaking bread with his friends, turning water into wine (now that would be a cool person to know), and skipping right over those mundane conversations to discuss the important things in life. He rattled on and on about the human condition and our incredible ability to transform not only ourselves but also the entire world by simply changing our thoughts or beliefs. 

He was giving us a new story, one that clashed with the current culture and is fundamentally challenging today.

There’s a duality in his teachings. For example, he asks us to forgive the people who piss us off, but in order to do that, we have to forgive ourselves. It’s totally cliché, but true: you can only love someone else to the degree or measure that you love yourself. And that is true for all the virtues. We have to trust, forgive, show compassion, kindness, and mercy to ourselves before we can offer this to others. 

It’s simple. Not easy. 

He said something else that was radical for his time. He said we all have equal access to God (fill in with your word for the sacred), but we have to quiet down our own chatter before we can identify her quiet wisdom. 

He begged his buddies to pray with him in the garden, but they kept falling asleep. I know how often I choose sleep over the daunting expectations of living consciously. We’re constantly being seduced by a myriad of distractions, our phones, people, politics, and mind-numbing substances, because life is hard. He was inviting us into a relationship with a radical presence, life-changing, and completely foreign to anything we have ever known, and we still doze off.

He claims humility, mercy, and kindness are far more important than power, wealth, and status. Not to say you can’t have both, but they will compete for your attention. 

Then he throws in a real zinger. I love this one. Treat people the way you want to be treated. Think about it. If we don’t like to be insulted, violated, ignored, abused, or dismissed, for goodness sake, don’t be that person.

And to make matters worse, he encourages us to love our enemies. I know, total choke, but truly, someone who is angry and full of hate is simply a wounded individual. I know this, but I still find myself manifesting anger when I should be showing mercy.

Jesus was so aligned with the sacredness of all human beings and with our potential to lead with love and compassion that he was willing to die rather than abandon this truth. 

The crazy thing is, this rather short, dark-skinned, ratty-haired little guy from Bethelham is simply asking us to be kind to ourselves and, by extension, others. He emulated the kind of love we’re all capable of, a love so powerful it has the potential to cast out fear, to heal, to restore our peace and calm. 

Booyah!

We can not control what happens, but he’s not asking us to do that. He’s asking us to control our response to what happens to us, and he claims that with love we can transform even the most impoverished act. 

He also says, with the faith of a mustard seed, we have the ability to recast the world, if you will. It starts out small, but what we believe has the potential to fundamentally change the landscape on which we all stand. If we fully understood the power of our thoughts, we could move mountains. 

Hello, I just want to redo the backyard.

Clearly, I’m a work in progress. 

We’re living in troubled times. I’m not trying to make light of this, but this man promised rest, peace, and renewal to those who are weary and burdened. But what does that really mean?

I return to the little black bunnies that are resting at the ends of my dining room table, the place where we come for nourishment, shelter, companionship, and spaghetti. For me, these little guys are symbols of hope, a reminder that there is ample opportunity to love, to change one’s heart, to adopt a new way of being in the world.

I suppose birth, new life, and radical reform represent the transformative potential of all human life. Every person on this planet came through a female womb, even God, if this is what you believe. I love that. This quiet little man suggested the core of all humanity is faith, hope, and love. 

Because without love, we are nothing but a cast-iron bunny, hollow instead of hallowed.

Spring is truly all the proof we need to know what God can do with a cold, dormant terrain; imagine what she can do with our hearts. The question is not whether you believe or not. The question is, what if he was right? My solution. Take your shoes off, stand on that plush green grass, now dotted with dandelions, for ten minutes, and notice how everything changes — in the blink of an eye.  

Grow Damn It ~ Perfect for spring baskets and those of us still growing in a challenging world! Grab them up by the dozen. 

“When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment.”

― Georgia O’Keeffe

My current obsession is flowers and Georgia, a new post coming soon.