You can find words of wisdom in all sorts of places, including a sweet, children’s book. I have been so touched and forever changed by one children’s book in particular, “The Rabbit Listened” by Cori Doerrfeld. I encourage you to order a copy on Amazon for yourself, and a few extras, as there will definitely be a time and occasion when you want to share with someone else in need.
A short summary of the book: A young child builds an amazing tower out of toys, but out of nowhere, it’s knocked down by a flock of birds. The child is devastated after all the time and energy put into this creation - all to be destroyed within a matter of seconds. A variety of animals notice the catastrophe and 1 by 1 each animal tries to tell the child exactly how to deal with the pain. (Chicken - let’s talk; Bear - let’s yell; Elephant - let’s fix it; Ostrich - let’s pretend it didn’t happen, etc. etc.). The child didn’t want to do any of that with any of those animals. Finally, along comes the Rabbit, who simply sits in silence next to the child. And sits. And sits. UNTIL, the child wants to talk, wants to yell, wants to laugh, and eventually, wants to rebuild.
Grief is such a natural part of life. We have all experienced, or will experience it, in our lifetimes. What I have found in the midst of my own grief, is that people are very uncomfortable sitting in pain and discussing pain. As the saying goes, “I have no words.” And, it’s true, there are some tragedies that are just so unthinkable and painful, we don’t have words to make sense of it all. However, what we really need is a Rabbit, who listens, who sits with you, who lets the griever dictate what they need and when and the Rabbit adapts accordingly. But people observing pain often try to find the silver lining or remind the griever “at least you still have … FILL IN BLANK.”
What if we all took a step back and instead of jumping to “at least you still have…”, we sat with the person in pain. We listened. We let them know that we are making space in our hearts for their grief, anger, sadness, etc. And if the griever wants to scream, we scream with them. If the griever wants to cry, we cry with them. If the griever wants to talk, we listen. You see the pattern.
As a transitions life coach, I witness a lot of trauma and grief, and huge life transitions. Part of my role is to be an active listener, to hold space for my clients’ pain, and to support them based on their terms and timeline. I am so grateful that I can be a Rabbit for a variety of individuals out in this world. Personally, I felt just how important it was to have my own Rabbits when I experienced the unthinkable trauma of losing my son, Liam. I can think of no greater way to honor my son than to spread his love and energy into the world as a Rabbit for others. One of the greatest lessons he has taught me. <3
If you are looking for a Rabbit, when you feel ready, you know where to find me.
-JH-