I’m Afraid of a Bunny Monster with Antlers.

I haven’t really told anyone about this before, but I’m afraid of a bunny. It’s not an ordinary bunny, or even a real bunny. It’s probably misleading to even use the word bunny, but I like that word.

I’ll rewind a little bit, to explain my history, and the Bunny Monster. 

When I was a toddler, I thought I was very clever. My memories of that time continue to frame me as being clever. I would hide in the cabinets and I thought I was so stealth, no one could possibly know I was there.

One day my mom showed me a picture of all the tupperware on the kitchen floor. Then she showed me a picture of me, huddled up in the cabinet that had previously held all the tupperware. I had no idea that the debris field I left in my wake was a dead giveaway. Maybe I’m not as clever as I like to think I am.

This was the beginning of me seeking a quiet, still place. The beginning of my quest to understand meditation.

Later, when I was about 6 or 7 years old, I had a canopy bed. At night, the light caught the monster lurking on top of my canopy. I could see the silhouette, sometimes it looked like a claw, sometimes it was the Bunny Monster. 

My Dad was an alcoholic, we’re a textbook example of the chaos and disfunction that comes with addiction. The way it affects the entire family. I think even without that, I’m so constitutionally different from my family, that things would have been hard. 

But my soul chose this life, this family, for a reason. Sigh.

For as long as I can remember, I would feel stressed out. All the time. Over everything. I would ruminate over the smallest things, and nighttime was the worst. That’s when you can’t distract yourself and quiet the voice in your head that says all the meanest things. To me, that was the Bunny Monster, though I often called it the Sleep Monster, because that’s when it was at its worst. 

My exhausted, frazzled, stressed-out mind felt like this Bunny Monster was stalking me. The bunny would morph into a huge, scary, strangely muscular, red-eyed monster that got scarier the more stress I felt. Did I mention he had fangs? Because of course he did. 

But then one day I started to get a handle on meditation. As I would meditate, the monster got smaller, the scary features receded. 

Have you ever had a cat choose you, I know my cat friends know what I’m talking about. When a cat crawls into your lap and melts in a puddle of trust and love. 

Well, that’s the feeling I get when I meditate, that my Bunny Monster shrinks down into a cute a fluffy friend, with little nubs for antlers. No pokey angry parts at all. 

So imagine that whole thing with me for a moment. Being stalked by a horrible, and relatively psychedelic monster, that magically transforms into a delightful lap-bunny of love. This is why I meditate.

I teach meditation because transforming your stress into something small and manageable is life changing. 

If you have a Bunny Monster, or however your stress haunts you, just know that you’re not alone. If you want me to teach you to be really successful at meditation, I’d be honored.

p.s now you know why my podcast cover has a bunny with antlers. 

Here’s a link to my course if you’re interested in learning more. 

p.p.s. one day, during the daytime, I looked on top of the canopy to see if there was really a monster up there. It was my stuffed dog Wilbur. Wilbur had a scary shadow.

*grammar errors and typos provided for your amusement.