Lessons from a Rabbit

Living a spiritual life often means finding opportunities to deepen compassion in the smallest moments and unlikely ways.

Throughout the summer a small rabbit had been hanging out around our house. This was not the black and white rabbit I wrote about a year and a half ago. This was a petite, honey-colored rabbit that I would regularly spot in the early morning or at dusk. During the warmest days, I would often find it stretched out in the shade, relaxed and serene.

Over the weeks, I was happy to see it, and if several days passed without a sighting, I would worry a bit and hope it was surviving its exposure to the elements and other hazards.

One hot afternoon, I walked to my car to run some errands. I looked around to the shady spots where I had seen the rabbit at various points over the summer. It was not there. Then I had the idea to look under my car. Sure enough, I found it reclining on the gravel in the shade of my car. In that moment, I had a choice. I could make a loud noise to scare it off or I could start my car and assume it would scurry away.

I decided to do neither. Instead, I went back inside and put off the errands until the next day. I didn’t want to disturb the rabbit. More than that, though, I liked knowing the rabbit saw my yard and driveway as a safe place, a resting place, and I wanted that to continue.

The Blessing of Compassion

This experience showed me something. I think we all know the world is crying out for compassionate acts, kindnesses, and empathy. I sometimes wonder if the enormity of the need leads us to think our efforts must be on a similar scale. When we think that way, it’s easy to feel defeated, wondering whether we can do much to alleviate suffering or bring comfort.

But my experience with the rabbit showed me it doesn’t take much to make a difference. And here’s the thing—I’m sure my actions have affected me more than they have the rabbit. After all, the rabbit didn’t know I was checking for it each day and wondering whether it was okay when I didn’t see it for a day or two. The rabbit couldn’t have known that I was willing to put off a trip to the pharmacy and the gas station because I didn’t want to spook it and make it run from its shady spot. I’m sure it was oblivious to me. But the rabbit’s presence made me more mindful. More considerate and kind. More patient.

So often, we think of compassion as a blessing for those who are on the receiving end of our caring acts. And that’s true, of course. But compassion is a blessing for us too. Opening our hearts and living from a place of service and selflessness softens our edges and makes us present to the world around us in a new way. Compassion is the way we bring the love of God into the world and discover it anew for ourselves.