Rabbit Holes?

My name is Alice and today I’d like to talk about rabbit holes. Lewis Carroll's Alice fell down a peculiar rabbit hole and had the most amazing adventures one could imagine.

Perhaps many creative types are familiar with their own versions of rabbit holes. I can name a few reasons for using them– researching, safety, hiding, daydreaming, distraction, amusement, avoidance–all with no idea of the passage of time. One other reason is plain curiosity. I call it the ‘shiny’ thing which is hearing, seeing, or reading a very appealing word, phrase, or image that immediately sends one back down the hole to follow the trail the word, phrase or image brought up. I've also followed a thought the same way fleshing it out to see if it gained substance or just petered out.

From my first book, to be published in 2024:

"I am familiar with rabbit holes, as my name, Alice, suggests. I used this expression growing up for the habit I had of disappearing mentally down a 'rabbit hole' surfacing hours later completely behind in whatever I was doing at the time. For me, it was a space to just be but my grade school teachers called it “daydreaming”.

As an empath, my version of going down a rabbit hole helped me tune everything out around me so I could isolate myself. When I’m in my rabbit hole, I feel calmer and am able to focus more objectively. If you are sensitive to other people’s feelings and thoughts, you know how important it is to be able to turn the noise off. For those who find it harder to shut off the energy you feel out there, the visual of ‘going down a rabbit hole’ creates an energetic space where you can relax and just BE. Of course, finding a physical place that gives you the same energetic space to relax and be you, is good, too. Sometimes you just need a space of your own to regroup.”

The spotlight on people who are empathic in recent years through authors such as Judy Dyer, Christiane Northrup, and Anita Moorjani have done much to educate and inform us on this way of being. I’m not a psychologist or a therapist, so I can’t speak from that viewpoint but I can speak from a 'growing up with it' viewpoint.

The empathic experiences I had certainly informed and helped form the person I am today for better or worse. I remember being chastised for things I’d do or didn’t do because I knew something and wasn't able, in the moment, to express why. That ‘knowing’ always turned out to be true regardless of the opinions of family members, friends or random people around me. I knew when both my parents would breathe their last breath. I felt the torture of souls in a house that was haunted. To this day I can’t watch any horror flicks, thrillers or shows. I knew when someone was feeling emotional pain and would burst into tears in the middle of a group of people I didn’t know and who didn’t appear unhappy or sad. I’ve had pains in my body that appeared randomly and then suddenly disappeared. I know now why I felt so many things but as a young girl, I thought everyone felt that way.

As I grew up I didn’t feel the need to disappear into a rabbit hole because I chose, instead, to bury the empathic part of me. It was so confusing. I cut it off and hid it for so long, I eventually hid it from myself. It was a wise man who said to me, out of the blue, “Don’t ever change.” I didn’t consider that wise at the time because I’d become a chameleon changing myself to suit any situation and was proud of it. I could fit in anywhere. Trouble was I slowly and painfully lost myself. I was well into adulthood before I started to travel back to the core of who I really was. Rabbit holes again became important to that process of remembering and opening myself back up.

At first, I read and read and read. I took courses. I searched for the clues to how I could get back to myself. I turned to spiritual sources and spent a lot of time nagging God for the answers. Then I turned to energetic sources and became a Reiki Master and a Theta Healer. I searched everywhere out there I could think of to remember the me I knew and, by this time, could feel. It wasn’t until I was forced to be alone with myself that I made the most progress. My siblings closed the door to any contact after our parents died. Relatives faded away. Friends came and went on to other friends. It’s hard to be around someone who is on a very difficult mission that only they can travel. Fortunately for me, my husband and our children have stood the test of time and are supportive and encouraging.

About this time I discovered another outside source, but this time, that source challenged me to go back inside, to discover the hero’s journey. Just like the book character ‘Alice’, my amazing adventure began. I was finally traveling inward to remember. I discovered Joseph Campbell’s work and also the Movie based on his work by Patrick Takaya Solomon called “Finding Joe”. I was struck by the opening story about an invading army and how the local monastery prepared for imminent invasion by covering its sacred buddha made of gold with mud and cement making it look like a stone Buddha. The thought was that the army wouldn’t take it or destroy it because it had no value. From my life’s perspective, that sounded familiar. If I covered myself up and not let anyone see the real me, no-one would know who I really was. As a child, I needed to protect myself.

As the years went by, I lived with a cement version of myself adding more disguises as I learned to fit in. That’s what we all do to some degree. We want to be loved. We want friends. The world says we are a success if we have certain things, if we’re a certain way, if we adapt. Yet, in adapting, I moved so far away from myself that I began experiencing illnesses and painful life events. I called them bootcamps. These were a series of major, painful events over time that helped me chip away at that cement until I uncovered the Alice I really was.

Rabbit holes? They were instrumental at keeping the essence of me alive until I opened that last door and connected with my soul. This wasn’t a religious experience, nor did the heaven’s open revealing angels. No, I sat in a rabbit hole of learning, of discovery and finally saw that spec of gold that was the real me. In the same way I knew something when I was younger, I knew now I had come home. I knew now I was connected with the core of who Alice was and that I would not ever change the real me again. This process was a bumpy ride. I was compelled to write about the bumps and bootcamps, not so others could avoid them (some of us are just that stubborn), but so they’d see their own spec of gold and know exactly who they were. We are seekers and that's what every seeker wants.

As in the hero’s journey, I’ve described the first and second steps. The last step is returning to encourage others to make the journey for themselves. Imagine living your life, reacting, surviving, then one day you just know that can't be all there is to life. Just like that, a seed of yearning is planted in your heart like a grain of sand irritating and chafing its way to wholeness. It’s the difference between cement and gold; the difference between having a life and being alive.

The time is now for us to do the inner work to uncover the gold, to focus on purpose and passion bringing them forth with grace and courage. Discover sooner than later what your soul already knows, align with who you are, and stand for yourself and your purpose. This is the weight of our collective responsibility in doing this important work and it is embedded in the larger scope of humanity, our world, and even, perhaps, our galaxy.

So, who will you be?

Here's the link to the movie, if you're haven't seen it. FINDING JOE