A Moment for Bunnies

I have been thinking a lot about bunny rabbits. I often see them running across the roads of my neighborhood and have to slam on my breaks so that ensure their safe travels. It is in moments such as these that I start to wonder if the bunnies know they are meant to do something else. They are meant to exist in tall grass and be the prey of other living things. And yet, here and now, the bunnies find themselves on manicured lawns and asphalt driveways, narrowly avoiding large mechanical beasts. Do they know? Have they been living in this evolved landscape for long enough that they assume this is all there is to life?

I am known to over-empathize with animals, but if the present situation is all they know, then I can only assume they feel a sense of longing. Longing for wholeness, for a feeling that you are doing the right thing. Longing for purpose, for a feeling that you are where you belong. But, of course, the bunny sitting on my sidewalk has no clue what to do, and even if it does, it probably doesn’t know how to get there. I have hope for the bunny rabbits simply because we, humans, have this notion of what rabbits are meant to do and where they should exist. Written down by ecologists and zoologists, there is a clear consensus. Maybe there is still time left for the bunny rabbits. They are not too far gone.

Humans, on the other hand, I am not so sure the same can be said. Yes, we have decades of testimony, from anthropologists to priests, that explain the ways in which one can exist and the ways that the sense of longing can be diluted. However, there is absolutely no consensus, and by no means is there one way to live your life. I am not even sure a single notion exists as to what a “human” fills in as a piece to a greater puzzle. I think that fact is what makes this line of thought so difficult to digest. There is not a past way of life to return to because we don’t collectively act for a single purpose. I don’t know why this is or how we got here. Maybe it is because we have been living in our evolved landscape for long enough that we assume this is all there is to life. This longing. Longing for a past I don’t know exists. Longing for a future where I will feel like I am doing what I am meant to, exactly where I am meant to do it.

I think that is what happiness is.

Moments where the longing dissipates.

Moments where the bunny is able to run through tall grass.

Moments where my present is enough.

Moments of joy.