I believe in bunnies. And not just because I can walk into my living room right now and see two of them, hopping around, playing and munching on Timothy hay. I believe in bunnies because their presence in my life shifted my purpose, brought me to a sense of fulfillment that everything else through which I had been toiling could never fill—in fact, those “things” were just ripping the hole wider.
I yearned for “more” for as long as I can remember but could not achieve a feeling of fulfillment because I simply could not figure out what was missing, what my purpose was. But trust—I kept busy: full time career, Master’s degree, often a second job, exercise, friends, appointments, activities, travel, you get the picture. Yet the ache for something more, something authentic, something that quenched this drive to evoke change went unsatisfied. I can clearly connect with the memory of feeling unfulfilled, the physical ache it created. While I was successful in many conventional ways, I simply could not figure out what I wanted, what would fix this broken, empty feeling.
The greatest blessings in my life have furry paws. Some of those paws belong to me and many belong to no one yet, but we are working on that (LongIslandRabbitRescue.org). I found my purpose; I shifted the feeling of emptiness to a feeling of abundance. If you would have told me, even a few short years ago, that I would feel most alive and happy while cleaning litter boxes or coordinating a team to rescue abandoned rabbits in a muddy, wooded preserve… please. But I undoubtedly do.
The path I have walked thus far, doing all the “things” one should do has been a great success by everyone else’s standards. That path left me lost, feeling alone. When I changed my walk to a hop, I started to find my way. Bunnies saved me; that’s why I believe in them so deeply. I believe in me now too.