Year of the Rabbit

The Chinese Lunar New Year begins on Sunday.  It’s the Year of the Rabbit, the Water Rabbit.

This has been the Year of the Tiger symbolized by action and impulse so we’re moving into a year of self-reflection and tranquility.  The rabbit is a symbol of peace, and is considered the luckiest of the 12 zodiac animals as it represents peace and longevity. May it be so!

The New Moon brings king tides to our area so we watch the numbers and plan when and where to walk and drive.  The bay overflows and then mud is exposed, in and out, two high tides and two low alternating through day and night.

We, too, as Walt Whitman wrote contain multitudes. It’s time to embrace all with opening and closing a heart-clasp of change.

Pema Chodron in Where is Buddha?

When we look into our own hearts and begin to discover what is confused and what is brilliant, what is bitter and what is sweet, it isn’t just ourselves that we’re discovering. We’re discovering the universe. 

Swirl in the eye of heart
Cormorants dry their wings by the bay


As I’ve shared, in preparing my eyes for cataract surgery, I’ve moved from 60 years of wearing contact lenses to wearing glasses so my eyes can return to their natural, and not a controlled state.

I’m realizing the gift of this as I sometimes view myself, as perhaps many of us do, as “fixed”, forgetting the movement and change we always are.  The earth is not standing still, and neither are we.

In this change, I have more awareness of my eyes and my way of seeing.  I understand the visual cortex is in the back of my head, by the occiput.  Those with myopia as I have may focus more upward there, elongate, and so now I allow changes in my eyes, in my way of seeing, feeling, and being.

We also balance in that area, so as I change my ability to see and perceive, my interaction with depth perception, I, at times, feel disoriented, unbalanced, even discombobulated.  Who am I with all these changes?

This is an exploration, and as I say a gift.  I feel a return to when I went through chemotherapy, not as exhausting, painful, or demanding, but certainly it is awareness, observation, feeling the space within open and close, the bones in my head open and close, the connections all through me of oneness in this world we share.

I trust in the experience of each unfolding moment.

Lin Jensen, “Molting”: 

Awakening arises in times of vulnerability and awkwardness between, before, and after where prior identities are canceled and anything is possible and nothing certain.

Alan Watts:

In Zen, mountains are mountains at first but then everything must fall apart before mountains can be mountains again.

Autumn light at Tennessee Valley