bonding lessons #14 (aka channeling your inner Olaf)

Like with my previous instalment in this bunny bonding series, this post isn’t a lesson taken from observing the bunnies bond, rather it’s a post-bond observation and sharing.

I mentioned previously how we removed the final fence that kept the living space separate from the rest of the apartment.

And when we did, and when Olaf discovered that he could roam wherever he pleased in the apartment, there was no holding him back. He was off. Without hesitation and without fear. Very un-bunny-like.

And so his adventures have become a ritual for him.

Every morning after he’s eaten his vegetables and before he gets his grass, greens and hay in his freshened-up littler box, off he hops. And when he hops, the first place he visits is always the place furthest away from the living area and his homebase. And that is our bedroom.

There he hops around checking out all the corners, making sure everything is in place. Sometimes, with a little help from my side table, he hops up onto the bed and has a wander around, checking things from a higher perspective.

Once he’s checked everything out, he’s happy to make his way back home to the living area.

Olaf is unlike any bunny I’ve ever known. His sense of adventure, his desire for fun and freedom, the way he embraces his personality and doesn’t dilute it in any way, and the way he relishes and embraces life is unlike the personality of a prey animal who is usually always on alert for unexpected danger.

The words carefree, fun, curious, excited, joyous, free all spring to mind when I think of Olaf. Watching him hop around fearless and undiluted as he does has inspired me to embrace my inner Olaf, something I encourage you to do also.

For me, my inner Olaf is my inner child, the child within who wants to have fun, who embraces life, who lives life with joy, full and undiluted. It’s something I haven’t always embraced. Indeed, it’s something I have forever struggled to embrace. If I’m honest, I don’t think I have ever, even when I was a child, let loose and felt completely carefree.

Why can it be so difficult to just have fun, especially as an adult?

Well, there can be a number of reasons why.

As adults, we have responsibilities such as children (human or non-human) to care for. How this translates for me today is, when I’m queueing up to ride a summer toboggan or when I’m taking the chairlift up a mountain to sleigh back down, a little voice in my head wakens up and becomes very vocal focusing on “what if?” What if I should fall and hurt myself, land myself in hospital, break a bone… or worse, who would look after the boys? (I have quite a dramatic inner voice) And inevitably that little voice with great power stops me from taking part in something that is fun because it convinces me it’s too dangerous and risky.

I, and I know I’m not the only one, was also brought up in a family where appearances mattered. You dressed smartly, not necessarily for yourself but for others. How this translates for me today is, when there’s a fair in town and I want to have fun and enjoy a ride on the chair swings or the ghost train or eat candy floss (aka cotton candy), the little voice in me will chirp up saying, “What will people think of you, an adult acting like a child?” And inevitably that little voice stops me letting loose and having fun.

As children, many of us were brought up surrounded by fear, granted the fear was created in an attempt to keep us safe and protected. Ultimately it came from a place of love. However, hearing advice such as “Don’t touch that, you’ll get burned”, or “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself” or “Don’t laugh so much, you’ll end up crying” can lead you to curtail your inner child and the fun he/she wishes to experience and embrace. How this translates for me today is, when I’m out cycling and come across a small downhill, my fingers are pulling on the brakes so I don’t go too fast because the little powerful voice in my head reminds “What if there’s a car crossing your path at the end of the hill, you won’t be able to stop in time?” or “what is someone walks out in front of you and you can’t stop in time?” Again, inevitably that little voice causes me to think twice and pull on the brakes rather than letting go, enjoying the rush, and having fun.

We have learned to live up in our heads where the little fear-filled voice resides, rather than living in our heart which wants us to live a full and unbridled life. It’s in our heart where, I believe, our inner child lives and when we spend so much time up in our head listening to the voice of fear, the timid little voice of our inner child can never be heard.

So how do we better channel our inner child, our inner Olaf?

That’s the question I posed to the angels.

As an aside, inspired recently by Olaf and his sheer joy of life and living life without fear, being free to express who he is, when that fair did return to town, I went on the chair swing, I rode the ghost train and I ate candy floss.

And you know what happened? I got a little dizzy after the chair swing but it was so much fun, I screamed a little when the cobwebs wiped over me and someone grabbed my side in the ghost train, and I relished biting into sugared air.

The chair swing didn’t snap and send me flying into the air crashing into the nearby building, people did not point and laugh at me when I came off the ghost train, and my teeth didn’t turn black or fall out after my candy floss.

I had fun, I felt light, I embraced life and… I’m here to tell the tale.

If you struggle to channel your inner Olaf and inner child like me, then wouldn’t you wish to receive advice and guidance from the most joyous, high vibrational energies that surround you; the angels?

Viv xx