Down the dark rabbit hole….
Lately, I’ve been curling up in a quiet burrow, hidden away from the world, my spirit shadowed by the news that someone I adore, my wonderful dad, has received a serious cancer diagnosis. The kind of news that shakes your soul right to its roots, that makes your heart ache down to its tiniest, softest corners.
This is the man who taught me how to swim, how to ride a bike, who built houses with his own two hands and his partner, my loving mum, right there by his side. He’s strong, gentle, sometimes vulnerable, magical, my dad - who I feel so deeply connected to.
Hearing something like this feels like being hit by a storm you never saw coming, like stumbling across a wall that seems impossible to climb. It’s overwhelming, surreal, and so very real.
In times like these, I feel small again, like a child peeking out for answers or comfort, wishing for a hand to hold in the darkness. The world of conventional medicine can sometimes feel a bit distant and brisk to my shaky, hopeful spirit- full of numbers, diagnostics, treatments, and urgent plans, yet missing that gentle warmth I crave. What I long for, in this moment, is a true companion on this journey - an ally who brings both wisdom and compassion, who balances skill with softness, who sees us as whole and not just as something to be "managed."
Because we want more than just management. We want hope - more than hope - we want to actively try and we want to love and treasure every possible moment.
And sometimes, I hear stories, tales of others who ventured off the well-worn path, finding their own way through the enchanted, daunting forest. Some emerged on the other side, faces turned to the sun, breathing in new hope, finding unexpected strength and balance. Across the world, across time, through the lens of traditional Chinese medicine (TCM), Ayurveda, Native wisdom, herbalism, functional medicine, and more, people seek gentle but strong allies for the journey: each culture with its own basket of hopeful petals.
Why not see what else the garden offers? What do we have to lose, except the chance at renewal? We’re not ready to give up or stop exploring. But alongside hope, there is fear. Fear of missing a step, of suffering, of not getting the outcome we yearn for. And I wonder, will our conventional guides still welcome us back if we dare to wander down other paths? Can care be a partnership, a joining of wisdoms, a return to humanity at the heart of healing?
I wish for medicine—a word that means so much in every tradition—to feel more like community, more like friendship, less like cold calculation and final judgments. Science is powerful, but why close the heart when the journey calls for open arms and open minds?
I don’t know what the next chapter will be. For now, I’m burrowing in for a while, letting my bunny spirit rest while I try to find my own way back to hope, to sunlight, to myself.
Hop into health, one petal at a time. With love from BunnyBlossom.
