Larisa Koehn

It was nearly a year ago when I first met Hops, the brush rabbit.

I was stuck in one of those loops, one of those endless mental loops. My mind was circling and circling and circling, constantly repeating this one scenario that ended time after time with this super intense feeling of barely repressed terror and hurt… and then the cycle would begin again.

Nothing I did would stop my mind from repeating this extremely painful pattern.

I tried breathing. I tried saying something different, changing the dialogue (in my head). I tried to notice and feel the sensations in my body. I tried to simply not care when I came to the painful part and was again flooded with pain and panic.

Nothing worked. This particular scenario was so stuck in my head that it felt impossible to shift. My mind just kept cycling and cycling and cycling. My frustration grew and grew and grew.

Then, something unexpected (and quite weird) occurred:

I was in the middle of the scenario, in a state of complete frustration with my inability to have any control over my own brain, when in pops Hops, the brush rabbit.

Now, it might be helpful here for you to know that I work with animal medicine (buffalo, raccoon, owl…) quite a bit. There is nothing I like more than having the opportunity to quietly observe wild (or even domesticated) animals and birds. It is a deeply nourishing and healing practice (medicine!) for me.

So, when Hops popped into my brain and said:

“Hey, if you can’t change how you feel at then end of this loop, why don’t you change how you react to how you feel?”

I just accepted the suggestion.

Yes, there was a rabbit in my brain. Yes, I could make up a lot of stories about what that meant or where he came from or whether or not he was real or just some other part of me showing up as a rabbit.

I didn’t question his appearance. I simply chose to listen to his advice.

Except, I didn’t really understand.

Me: “Huh?”

Hops: “You can’t change the pattern, right?”

Me: “Right.”

Hops: “Why don’t you change how you react to the pattern?”

Me: “Ok, how?”

Hops:  “Well, you could always *hop*.”

Me: “Huh. Ok…”

So, the next time the scenario looped through and I felt that overwhelming rush of terror and hurt (*after* I felt the terror and hurt that were feeding the loop), I stuttered out “Hop!”

It was kind of funny.

And, I almost forgot to do it because I was once again so caught up in the pain of the scenario. But, I remembered. And, it kind of made me giggle.

The loop began again. At the end, I again said “hop!”. And, this time I was suddenly inspired to add a couple more random words after ‘hop’: butterscotch, sandpiper, sailboat!

And with that, the Game of Hops began.

With each cycle, I would say Hop! and then add as many random, nonsensical words as I could think of in a 2-5 sec span. The loop would repeat. I would again hop! and add more random words: pumpkin pie, rainbow bright, candle light!

It started to be fun! I began to look forward to the end of the scenario (which I had so dreaded before).

And, as I continued to play in this way, everything became more and more of a game until the entire pattern shifted and there was only freedom and love in the moment that previously held so much pain.

It was amazing.

And then, the entire pattern, the entire loop, dissolved. *poof*

My brain was once again mine. My mind was still and quiet. My body felt calm and at ease.

It was then that I realized I couldn’t even remember what the scenario that had so dominated my mind had included. The pattern had shifted so completely that there was no longer even a memory of the painful incident. There was only love. And giggling.

Here, now, is the Medicine of Hops, the Brush Rabbit, as I experience it:

It is medicine that leads to the unraveling of things (issues, patterns) that no longer serve.

It is medicine of interrupting patterns that seem impossible to change. And through interrupting them, changing them. Little by little, like small hops across a yard (hop, hop, hop). Or, in one giant leap, like a rabbit escaping the bobcat by the width of a hair (of a hare?).

I have wanted to share this story for a long time.

I just haven’t known how. It is fairly convoluted (and odd) and yet it ends in simplicity.

There is only this truth. The truth that everything can change. Can transform. And that when we are truly done with a particular pattern, there is no need for it anymore, at all. Anywhere… in our heads or in our lives. It simply disappears. As if it were never there.

In fact, it disappears so completely that we even forget it ever existed.

This is the medicine of Hops. This is the medicine of the brush rabbit as I’ve experienced it.

For you, now, I offer the Song of Hops.

A couple of weeks after the experience above, I was sitting in meditation when this melody popped into my mind.

The Song of Hops

Hopeful Hopping
Hop Hop Hop

What you think is what is not
Hop Hop Hop
Hop Hop Hop

Here’s how you sing it: The Song of Hops

I find singing it to be a powerful (and very playful!) way to bring the medicine of Hops directly into my life – especially when my mind is caught up in some some loop of anxiety, worry, regret or fear. I hope it does the same for you. Hop, hop, hop… :)

Comment Magic:

Thanks for being here. I’d love to hear any stories about medicine or healing you’ve received from animals. Also, what helps you when your mind gets stuck in some unending loop?

*sending love and hopeful hopping*

Over the past years, my concept of what self-care means (for myself) has changed drastically.

This is good. This is to be expected when the basis for my work is about evolution and allowing/expecting things to change. The very fact that what self-care means has changed so much indicates to me that I am on my path.

This change has been disconcerting, however, as it has happened super swiftly.

Further, every time I think things have settled enough so that I can actually begin to write about it, everything changes again.

Today, I’m in this place of not even knowing where to begin to talk about what self-care means to me now.

Everything I’ve written about in the past (the importance of wallows, of magical listening, of comfort, of magnificent failure, of owl eyes, of relaxing, etc) still applies.

There is now just so much more. My framework has expanded (and is still expanding).

So, let’s start with a story.

It is a while back. I have only recently been introduced to the teachings and work of Malidoma Somé.

I’m skeptical. I truly, honestly, thoroughly, don’t get the whole piece about working with your ancestors, with your lineage, for healing. Growing up in an ultra-conservative religious community, I feel oddly discomforted by the entire notion.

Yet, I’m also very drawn to the aspect of his work that involves working directly with the elements of fire, water, earth, mineral, and nature for healing and transformation.

And, I love the focus on purpose, on community, on personal empowerment, and living in relationship with nature.

My (not-yet) husband and I do a water ritual at the ocean to release some of the old, stale patterns between us that were not serving our relationship. I feel so connected to the ocean and to the earth and have this sense of being truly cleansed.

My interest grows.

In which I light the red candle.

So, on a whim, I decide to see what might happen if I light a red candle for my ancestors every day while I write in my journal.

Easy, right?

Enter 10-14 days of the most intense emotional turmoil I’ve ever experienced.

I honestly thought I was going insane. I didn’t think it would end. I was convinced that I was just going to feel this insanely sensitive, easily triggered, and emotional for the rest of my life.

Oh, I was using *all* of my self-care tools.

They would help – while I was doing them. Then, I’d be off into this spiral of devastation, anxiety, fear, grief, etc.

The only thing that really seemed to help was spending time talking with my ancestors when I lit the candle – telling them how awful everything was and bawling my eyes out.

Then, I’d feel better. And then, some even deeper layer of something would open and I would once again be a wreck.

So, yes, 10 days of absolute awfulness, 10 days of being more emotionally sensitive than I’ve ever been (even at the height of hormonal intensity), 10 days of thinking I was going insane.

Finally, slowly, over the course of a week, the emotions began to abate.

I began to experience more and more moments of absolute calm and clarity. When the emotions would begin to rise again, I could take it all to my ancestor candle (now an altar), let it pass through me and within a matter of moments, be back to a place of stability.

In brief, spending time with my ancestors was the quickest, most effective self-care I’d ever experienced!

It was about that time that I began to notice something different when I went to light my candle and speak with my ancestors.

I could feel them!

I could feel their support and their love. When I was feeling afraid or sad or anxious, I could take it to them and just rest in their love. I would leave feeling nourished, calm, and centered.

Then, I noticed something else.

First, though, you need to know that the majority of my dreams have always been very dark.

…me, alone, in a dark city, being chased through alleys (or cornfields), not knowing who to trust, conspiratorial (against me) overtones… those types of dreams. Creepy, dark, very alone, terrified…

As I began to re-find my center and feel/accept the support of my lineage, my dreams changed.

People (who I innately knew I could trust) would all of a sudden pop up in my dream and whisk me to safety. Or, we would be side-by-side fighting and fleeing together, scheming up all sorts of unlikely and unbelievable ways to escape the dark forces threatening us.

It was amazing! I was no longer alone! I had support and allies even in my dreams!

I would *never* have guessed my dreams could change.

The thought had never even crossed my mind that that was a possibility. And, they continued to change over the next few months.

Today, I can’t even remember the last time I had a dark, conspiratorial dream. Now, I have different patterns showing up for me to work with; and, I have support in my dreams to work with the new things as well.

There is so much more I could tell…

…about how everything in my life is different now, about the various rituals I’ve had the opportunity to be a part of and to lead, and about how much more support, love, in-real-life community, and connection there is in my life.

However, what is most important to me right now is to start opening up a bit more about how self-care truly looks for me in this moment.

I’m starting here, now, with this story.

Comment magic:

I’ve experienced so much transformation and deepening of connection with myself and my community thanks to this nature-elemental-spirit-based path I am walking. This path works for me.

What is working for you now? Do you have a spiritual (or spirit-based) path that is a part of your self-care? Where do you turn when things are difficult?