Island Animal Watch: White Rabbits?

During my last session with Julia, the holistic and spiritual-if-you-want-her-to-be therapist I visited before moving to St. Thomas, I asked if she had any final wisdom before I departed on my adventure.

“Follow white rabbits,” she replied.

“Okay, you’re gonna have to elaborate on that one, please.”

She said that in the The Matrix,  Keanu Reeves’ character repeatedly sees white rabbits, he follows them, and they lead to the next step on his journey. (Of course, the Alice in Wonderland derived white rabbit theme has become a modern narrative archetype, if not a total pop culture cliche'. Which makes my experience with them in St. Thomas even more astonishing.) I told her I’d recently noticed a surplus of fleur-de-lis in my life, and Mr T. is being driven crazy by multiple ones (yes, like the number, 1111). She urged me to pay attention to signs like these because they are affirmations of being on the right path…or, I suppose, warnings of being on the wrong one, depending on the vibe.

Both fleur-de-lis and 111’s accompanied us on our road trip from Minneapolis to Miami, creating an enchanting sense of magical flow.

Which started to wear off about a week after being in St. Thomas when the anxiety—my old toxic frenemy—returned. But by the grace of some godly entity, I had an affirming experience that hit violently, like a much-needed smack upside my soul.

Mom, Mr. T and I were at the Hull Bay Hideaway for dinner. Mom and I drove together, and Mr. T met us on his bike. When it was time to leave, he suggested that I join him. I’d been scared up to this point, never having ridden a motorcycle before. Fortunately, I was aided by some of the liquid courage that flows so freely in St. Thomas. I reminded myself that I am here for some adventure, dammit. And riding on the back of a crotch-rocket on a mountainous, drunken island certainly counts.

As we rolled out of the boatyard/parking lot, I noticed some fluffy white bunny rabbits hopping in the grass. It never occurred to me that an animal so common to the temperate region of my homeland would also live in the tropics. Bunny rabbits aren’t tropical, are they? I can accept vermin like rats, mongoose and lizards… but cottontail bunnies? They seemed so completely out of place. An animal anatopism. But there they were, chilling in the grass, black eyes shining in the dark.

It wasn’t until I got to Mr. T's house after what turned out to be an exhilarating ride that I remembered what Julia had told me only I a few weeks earlier. Never did I think her advice would manifest itself so literally in my life. The realization actually gave me goosebumps, followed by a welcome sense of calm and wonder. For the next few weeks, I continued to see white rabbits around The Hideaway . And as the anxiety grew worse, they always brought a bit of warm fuzzy.

Most recently, I’ve encountered the white rabbits at Seven Minus Seven, the alternative arts collective I'm involved with. I first noticed them on an old graffiti-painted car outside. (I just now realized the car is actually a VW Golf, a model previously known as a VW Rabbit, which makes this story even better.)

And then on the indoor painting below:

(All done by former Artist-in-Residence, Paz. If you're interested in buying any of the art Paz' created at the 7-7 warehouse, we're happy to facilitate you.)




It's that long skinny one with the white rabbits over on the left above the fridge.
I want it for myself someday.

These encounters with white rabbits serve as a reminder not to discount magic. It may not come in a pull-a-rabbit-out-of-a-hat kinda way (okay, yes, pun intended). But it’s still there, sometimes in the most literal, face-slapping manner possible. One thing I've learned since this whole adventure began is that paying attention to these synchronicities—what my friend Beth calls tiny miracles— makes life a helluva lot more mysterious and fun.