Photo Credits: Townsend Walton
Before I saw the rabbit I was drinking water. Scratch that. I had checked my phone, filled up a glass of water, drank the water, then checked my phone again. I was “checking” Instagram — my drug of choice. I’ve removed the app from my Home Screen, set time limits for it, and “deactivated” my profile multiple times in the past. And for the better part of two years, I didn’t use it that often, being especially aware of it when in the presence of others and late at night. But my habit has seemed to slip lately and I catch myself dashing upstairs to where I stow my phone most times (to keep it out of reach) just to “check” it.
Check what? I’m not sure.
But this time, my phone was with me, in the kitchen, and then suddenly I saw something out of the corner of my eye. A little cottontail rabbit stock-still in the backyard. Through the glass door separating us I took in its quivering, gentle mouth. Its proud, pink ears that seemed to glow slightly, turned translucent with the help of July’s burning sun. Staring back at it proved to be fun a game. Who would move first? I’m not sure how long I stood there, but I knew this needed no time limit. This did not leave me feeling passive, sacrificing part of my day and brainpower to algorithms and capitalism and posts that often make me feel like I’m running out of time. I was just paying attention.
It felt really good.
He moved first, just to the fence line, and began sniffing around. I grabbed an expensive organic carrot from the fridge and took it outside with me. The rabbit stayed, watching as I placed the treat on the grass a few feet away from it. Then I went back inside.
The rabbit worked its way through the entire carrot, nibbling off little chunks, pausing, surveying me, and then returning to its snack.
I didn’t connect the rabbit to paying attention and ditching the phone and letting life be life and all these highly-charged ideas at the time, but the moment stayed with me for several weeks. Now, I connect it all together.
There’s this moment in car rides that fills me with so much joy. It begins with “Look!” Sometimes, it’s “Look! Cows!” or “Look! Horses!” I’m not sure why, but it always seems to be animals that capture our attention in this way. I don’t know any child or adult that does not perk up at this moment and peek out the window to pay attention.
Unlike Instagram, cows don’t want to sell me anything (the thought of it makes me laugh though). Unlike Instagram, horses don’t spike my anxiety and cause spiralling thoughts about attachment styles and breaking news. Unlike Instagram, a rabbit has no desire or motive for me to look at it. It just wants to be a fucking rabbit. It is a rabbit.
There are so many things going on around us. There are awe-inspiring people, places, and ideas that are not pixelated and easily accessible and monetized.
Despite my greatest intentions to live presently, meditate most days, and remain connected to people and not screens, it can be easy for me to turn a blind eye to life itself literally.
The rabbit keeps coming back to my backyard and each time it’s a reminder: “Hey. Look!”
emily coppella 