Make It Count

All this self-imposed pressure to make the days count, to make them epic (and how overused is that word lately? I actually saw a sign, affixed to a telephone pole last week, that read “Epic Garage Sale.” I’m sorry I missed it), to make use of the days off while simultaneously enjoying the freedom and ease of vacation…

One of my B-isms: “Don’t count the days; make the days count.”  I didn’t coin it, but I use it.  Often.  Since I’m not counting days, here are some things I will count for you.

  • Rabbits have 18 toes. Of all of the rabbits with whom I come in contact, I only know one who is missing a digit.
  • I have 3 friends that I’ve had since high school.
  • Domestic rabbits need 35+ hours of exercise time per week.
  • I have 2 friends from college.
  • Tater Tot has chewed 2 holes in our living room couch.
  • Bunny-daddy and I have been together for 6 years.
  • Peanut has bunstructed 2 coffee tables.

Things I can’t count…

  • How many rabbit friends I have.
  • How many pairs of shoes I own.
  • How many bottles of Young Living essential oils I own.
  • How much I love my boys.
  • How many hours I’ve spent answering Rescue emails.
  • How many books I’ve ever read.
  • How much my soul is enriched from Rescue and my Rescue people.

I vow not to put too much pressure on myself, to truly give myself a break during these weeks off from the day job.  However, some things need to get done and I’m using you, my readers, as my accountability.  This week’s goal: clean my desk!  Simple, yet seemingly insurmountable at this time.  Cheer me on.

desk

Now, get off your device (after you like this post, of course) and go make today count!

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Hoppy Father’s Day

I am named after my father.  I joke that he wanted a boy… or that he’s narcissistic (baby me was going to be Dennis or Denise).  We had the typical ups and downs that a young girl, an only child at that, and her protective father would have at all of the appropriate times.  Now, we are definitely buddies.  I know how he’s going to react, down to the expletive punctuation to his sentences.  Our connection is strong and I treasure that.  We do have our moments—he’s a Leo and I’m an Aries, both fire signs—but I have never doubted for a split-second that that man has my back 100%.   And I’m damn lucky.

And funny enough, he used to call me “bunny” when I was little.  It’s like my story was already written…

My uncle, with whom I share a birthday, and his other half have always been big brother/father figures to me as well.  So many great men who raised me, it’s no wonder that the bunny-daddy is a damn good guy.  I couldn’t have ended up with any other kind of person.  Much like my father and uncles, the bunny-daddy is giving and respectful.  The bunny-daddy puts his children first, as my father and uncles continue to put me first, even after 34 years (helps that I have no competition in the form of siblings or cousins).

Once I did “the work” on myself and got my self-worth in line, I ready for that higher-level of love and care to come into my life.  And I fully thank the men who raised me for showing me, never just telling me, how truly precious, deserving and worthy I was and always will be.  With their support, their example, I’ve welcomed and embraced true bliss into my life.

Like begets like.  Love begets love.  Hoppy Father’s Day.

If you didn’t/don’t have role-model-worthy men in your life, you can borrow mine.  But give them back.  I need them.

Rituals

I describe myself as highly routinized. For my own good, I’ve loosened up a bit over the past few years and more markedly, over the past few months.  I do attribute my massive success (and I define success as happiness and daily bliss) to my habits and patterns.  This way of life, as rigid as it can be sometimes, just comes naturally to me.  It’s the way my system was programmed.  Even my downtime, my free time has rules to it.

I start my days by stepping outside and taking a few moments to be present.  Up until very recently, I would start my days by grabbing my phone, starting the cycle of checking and obsessing.  I’ve worked to replace that habit with taking myself out to the deck and listening.  Some days, I do find myself on the screen before I’m on the grass but this part of the routine is a work in progress.  Starting the day by taking a few moments to just breathe and be outside sets a different tone—the intensity to do, to go, to be somewhere else drifts away.  Try it.  A gift I got from my meditation coach and friend.

I come in from outside and flick on the diffusers, usually Thieves in the bathroom and today it’s a combination of tangerine and orange in the kitchen/living room.  The oils have become just as integral to my routine as coffee.  On work days, I hop in the shower; on non-work days, I feed boys, then fed myself.  Breakfast is a piece of Ezekiel toast with peanut butter and a dark roast coffee with sugar and MCT oil. Work days: I eat, ready, dress and leave.  Non-work days: I eat and shuffle between housework, Rescue work and catching up on completely junk television.  I check my phone too often (working on it!) and I beat myself up for not reading more.  I always say: the more you read, the better looking you get.

I’m profoundly a morning person, so whether it’s formal work or not, the best of it happens early.  The day flows methodically.  Accomplishments abound.  Even the downtime is structured.  But it works for me.  Example: I don’t leave the house on Sundays.  The bunny-daddy started that tradition.  If there’s an absolutely unavoidable exit of the house on a Sunday, another day of house-arrest is substituted.  Adding this to the rituals has made me carve out time for self-care and a clear boundary that I can’t overload myself with more “stuff” for anyone or any institution.  It’s my day around the Manor.

My days round out with a short Reiki session for each of the boys and I’m always in bed early.  I need a lot of sleep.  It’s just a fact of who I am and I’m grateful to know myself and meet those needs.  And yes, even the extended vacation on the horizon from the day job will be filled with structure, routines… the rituals that make this success continue to flow.  It’s difficult for me to “do nothing,” sometimes to the point of torturous, but that’s something I’m working on for sure.  I need to give myself permission to just be, to restore.

Adding to the routine this summer: more outside time, more books, more quiet.

Subtracting from the machine: checking my phone as much as I do, negative self-talk when I do “nothing.”

Now, go do something for you.  Get outside.  Or come wash my dishes so I can…

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Take some time to relax!

Betsy’s Battle

Betsy has a battle ahead of her.  The story of her rescue and subsequent cancer diagnosis will appear in the next issue of “Thump” so you’ll get all the details there.  Betsy is living at our foster home for special needs and sanctuary rabbits, where I volunteer weekly.  A few days after she settled in there, into her “hospice foster home,” I gave Betsy a Reiki treatment.

Betsy stayed inside her hideout box while I did my typical chores, tending to the rabbits of varying needs and speeds.  After chores were done, I cleansed the space with my Thieves spray, anointed my third-eye chakra with a drop of lavender oil and rubbed a few drops of lavender oil between my palms.  I sat in front of Betsy’s enclosure– she lives in a multi-level condo.  Her upstairs neighbor is the legendary Maurice, a big white bunny boy who has more personality than most humans you encounter on the daily.

I began our healing session with the door to her enclosure open, my hands outstretched but still outside, calling upon my guides, Betsy’s guides and welcoming all energies of healing and comfort.  Almost immediately, Betsy bounded from her hideout and started eating pellets from the crock in her enclosure.  She ate for the duration of our session, even when I transitioned to hands-on healing.  She ate with an even pace, not gobbling too fast but not quite taking breaks either.  One pellet at a time, taking in the nutrition as a sign for me that she was also allowing the healing energies to flow.

Betsy shared some gems with me while we worked together.  She described the veterinarian who operated on her, Dr. George, as gentle and said that she knew Dr. George helped her.  Betsy shared that her foster mom is “cool” and they have a sisterly bond.  Betsy likes where she is.  She is receptive to and grateful for all the care she’s receiving.  She reported no current pain beyond the typical pain or discomfort that she feels—she’s used to how she feels now.  Betsy also told me that her neighbor Maurice is funny.  Maurice snorted in acknowledgement (I don’t think I ever heard him snort before!).

Maurice

As we closed the session, I called on Daphne II, a LIRRG-alum who has crossed over, to help heal Betsy.  Daphne II lived in the same foster home for the final months of her time in this dimension.  She and Betsy share a similar aesthetic so I found it fitting to link the two.  As soon as I closed out our session, Betsy retreated to her hideout box.

Betsy might be with us for a few years… but more than likely her time will be less than that.  Speaking of time, this is the perfect moment to remind myself that when I visit her foster home tomorrow to cover my weekly shift of chores that I must take some extra special time with her, with all of the darling rabbits.  Because we have all the time we need, no matter what perceptions we have of time or confines we force upon it.  Sending Betsy an abundance of love and light as she hops her battle.