This is Louise. Yes, you are remembering correctly that her other half is named Thelma. How original? Well, Thelma is a boy, so it's a bit original.
I was finally motivated today to do full throttle bunny chores which involves letting them romp in the porch while I clean their cage. Under the right circumstances there is something wonderfully peaceful about sitting with my rabbits on the porch while they wander and explore.
Today is one of those rare days. It's about 58 degrees with filtered sunlight coming through the maples. There's a slight breeze. Out in the woods where I live it is often only the sounds of nature.
When bunnies are happy they leap up and kick out their heels to one side and then they race around. It is a profound expression of joy lived in the moment. As I sit in my hammock chair and watch them, I wistfully wish I could experience joy in living as simply as they do.
Of course as I sat with them this morning my thought began to wax philosophical. I had chosen their names, Thelma & Louise, after learning they were supposedly two females and not two males (they had been Adam & Steve). There was a similarity to the rhythm and sound of the names and there was paucity of female duo names. How many can you think of, hmmm? Lucy & Ethel? Others?
Today I began to think about those names, the characters, and their story. Two women trapped in their circumstances, desperate to maintain their freedom. As I thought about this I observed at varying moments Thelma and Louise checking out the perimeter of the porch for an egress.
Here they were for the first time in weeks in a space 50 fold larger than their hutch and their instinct was to still seek a way out. I'm certain they are motivated to do so more from curiosity than desperation, but the act itself caught my attention.
I have been rewatching Roots for the first time having purchased the series on DVD. In the second episode last night, one of the ongoing themes was that Kunta was different from the other slaves because he was born free. Fiddler warns the other slaves to stay away from "The African" because this made him wild. When Kunta escapes for the first time, Fiddler ponders on what it must feel like to be free - that it must be wonderful.
The masters and overseers have their opinions about newly enslaved Africans over slaves born into captivity. Those that have worked closely, namely the overseers, understand the effects of grieving lost freedom has on a new slave.
So as I sat there watching my rabbits I thought about being born into slavery versus being captured and forced into slavery. How interesting that my rabbits born into captivity still yearned for more, still tried to find a hole in the screen to see what was beyond the porch, just like their namesakes.
In the end this lead me to think about our own "slavery," or that which enslaves us. IMHO we live in a very sick (i.e., ill & unhealthy) culture. I have moved once again into the metaphorical, so understand that I am in no way making a comparison between 21st century middle class America and 19th century Southern slave plantations.
We all live in our own little rabbit hutches. If we are fortunate we occasionally get let out to run around on the porch. In most cases, this is the life we are born into - we are not "Africans" fresh off the boat in a strange land.
Rabbit hutches are not necessarily bad, mind you. My bunnies wouldn't last more than a couple days at most in the wild. Aside from the whole domestication thing, they have genetically lost the natural defenses of wild rabbits. Louise (mostly white) would not be able to hide in the summer; Thelma (mostly dark chocolate brown/black) would not be able to hide in the winter. The hutch provides them with security and food. The porch provides them with exercise.
Yet, like the bunnies, we can't help trying to find the hole in the screen, wondering what else is out there, eh? The key to all of this is that leap of joy, remember from the beginning of the post?
They are blessed with the ability to experience profound joy in the moment and can't help leaping to express it. How often do we allow ourselves to leap for joy because life is good, even in our porches and hutches? As humans it is much too easy to see only the hutch and captivity.
Peace.
I was finally motivated today to do full throttle bunny chores which involves letting them romp in the porch while I clean their cage. Under the right circumstances there is something wonderfully peaceful about sitting with my rabbits on the porch while they wander and explore.
Today is one of those rare days. It's about 58 degrees with filtered sunlight coming through the maples. There's a slight breeze. Out in the woods where I live it is often only the sounds of nature.
When bunnies are happy they leap up and kick out their heels to one side and then they race around. It is a profound expression of joy lived in the moment. As I sit in my hammock chair and watch them, I wistfully wish I could experience joy in living as simply as they do.
Of course as I sat with them this morning my thought began to wax philosophical. I had chosen their names, Thelma & Louise, after learning they were supposedly two females and not two males (they had been Adam & Steve). There was a similarity to the rhythm and sound of the names and there was paucity of female duo names. How many can you think of, hmmm? Lucy & Ethel? Others?
Today I began to think about those names, the characters, and their story. Two women trapped in their circumstances, desperate to maintain their freedom. As I thought about this I observed at varying moments Thelma and Louise checking out the perimeter of the porch for an egress.
Here they were for the first time in weeks in a space 50 fold larger than their hutch and their instinct was to still seek a way out. I'm certain they are motivated to do so more from curiosity than desperation, but the act itself caught my attention.
I have been rewatching Roots for the first time having purchased the series on DVD. In the second episode last night, one of the ongoing themes was that Kunta was different from the other slaves because he was born free. Fiddler warns the other slaves to stay away from "The African" because this made him wild. When Kunta escapes for the first time, Fiddler ponders on what it must feel like to be free - that it must be wonderful.
The masters and overseers have their opinions about newly enslaved Africans over slaves born into captivity. Those that have worked closely, namely the overseers, understand the effects of grieving lost freedom has on a new slave.
So as I sat there watching my rabbits I thought about being born into slavery versus being captured and forced into slavery. How interesting that my rabbits born into captivity still yearned for more, still tried to find a hole in the screen to see what was beyond the porch, just like their namesakes.
In the end this lead me to think about our own "slavery," or that which enslaves us. IMHO we live in a very sick (i.e., ill & unhealthy) culture. I have moved once again into the metaphorical, so understand that I am in no way making a comparison between 21st century middle class America and 19th century Southern slave plantations.
We all live in our own little rabbit hutches. If we are fortunate we occasionally get let out to run around on the porch. In most cases, this is the life we are born into - we are not "Africans" fresh off the boat in a strange land.
Rabbit hutches are not necessarily bad, mind you. My bunnies wouldn't last more than a couple days at most in the wild. Aside from the whole domestication thing, they have genetically lost the natural defenses of wild rabbits. Louise (mostly white) would not be able to hide in the summer; Thelma (mostly dark chocolate brown/black) would not be able to hide in the winter. The hutch provides them with security and food. The porch provides them with exercise.
Yet, like the bunnies, we can't help trying to find the hole in the screen, wondering what else is out there, eh? The key to all of this is that leap of joy, remember from the beginning of the post?
They are blessed with the ability to experience profound joy in the moment and can't help leaping to express it. How often do we allow ourselves to leap for joy because life is good, even in our porches and hutches? As humans it is much too easy to see only the hutch and captivity.
Peace.
3 comments:
As the young people would file off my school bus, I would often remind them that they should enjoy the moment. That there will never be another day like today. Of those that actually heard me, most gave a look like I had a strange word tattooed onto my forehead. If only we all could live in the moment, smell the roses, and observe what is happening around us. Most of us tend to live with one foot in the past, and one in the future, all the time urinating on the current moment. Thanks for the blog.
Well, that explains why I love rabbits so much! Keep on writing, Larry! Your posts make my day!
Thanks for this blog! I want to meet Thelma & Louise now. Jesse
Note: My mother's name is/was Thelma Lousie. Truth. It either gives me joy, or could it be an explaination for my constant internal conversation?
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