Watching Rabbits

Today is another day, and the rabbits have changed their fur. Who knows why, but today I feel cheery, chilled and not-at-all-bored. My Wise Friend sent me a helpful email, reminding me about the importance of being in the moment, which is I suppose more like watching rabbits than chasing them. Definitely less tiring and much more entertaining. But I have also remembered that feelings, like rabbits, are unpredictable, can turn on a sixpence, and can be chemically induced.

Sometimes I feel a bit down. It comes and goes. I just need to remember that my down moods are more likely to be the result of unruly brain chemicals than any real thing amiss in my life. Sometimes I chase after complex psychological explanations for feelings that are nothing more than the insignificant result of a temporary hormone imbalance, or a serotonin deficiency. Instead of beginning the search for yet another New Life, I could just eat some chocolate, and look at the sky.

Yesterday it snowed. A lot. I had planned to fly to England to visit my children during the half-term break, and they had all sorts of things arranged to coincide with my visit. But, much as I was really looking forward to seeing them, I was seriously scared at the prospect of the long, slow and potentially dangerous journey to the airport, in the arctic conditions. Then we had a long power cut, leaving us with no phone or internet, so I couldn’t check in on-line for my flight, or even discover whether the airport was open. It was beginning to feel like the Universe was trying to tell me something.

Feelings capered through my brain like rabbits in a carrot patch. Worry, fear, disappointment, guilt, indecision – round and round and in and out – until eventually I decided to give up on the idea, and rebook the flights for a later, less weathersome date.

And at the point when the decision was made, The Moment rushed in full and friendly, to banish all the shoulds and oughts, and all the thinking about other times and places. The day suddenly felt like a holiday. The pressure of imminent travel vanished, the loss of power banished electrical distraction possibilities, and the snow curtailed what could be done outside. There was nothing to do except sit in front of the blazing wood stove with the sleeping cats and dogs, and just be.

And I discovered that the Rabbit of Happiness has been snoozing on my hearth all along. I’ve just been too busy chasing other things to notice it.