“All knowledge begins with wonder, and only those who start from wonder and amazement are on the path to true knowledge.” — Rudolf Steiner, “The Path to Knowledge and Its Connection to Human Morality,” January 15, 1912, English translation in the Rudolf Steiner Archive.
A wondering journey
For anyone willing to follow their curiosity and leave room for wonder.
A golden hare appeared twice: once in a picture, and once in a story about finding a hidden treasure. The connection had my immediate attention. For me, the hare carried the same invitation as the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland: follow. Be curious. Wonder what lies around the corner. No fear, no worry, no explanation. Just go and take a look.
It also echoed a message I had received. I am including it here because the language itself was part of the invitation. The wordplay, the shifts in direction, the exuberance —it gave me something to explore.
What follows is my experience of working with guidance. The meaning develops through the engagement.
The initial calling
My original guidance, with paragraph breaks added for readability:
Mind field – every thought is a line of creation…. The infinite wonder at play. Each thought creates a fluid set of beginnings that can or cannot influence the minds of others. You are in the middle of a muck field until you learn to balance and remove that which is not resonant with your own thoughts and creations. So the big thing in the moment is to remove the flotsam and ask what will be most helpful in creating a world or a state worth receiving. Ask and it is given.
It isn’t about what you write – it’s about what you think and the engagement that sparks. The mind is always racing hither, thither and yon… yonder. A wondering spark and a wandering creator. What happens when that spark goes silent… creation atrophies. So the entire goal of the exercise is to keep the thread and the spark active. What does that require? Incentive. It is as simple as that. Find an idea a goal a role that makes life interesting.
You are the thread the coil the battery and that requires fuel – not food – not air not breath — IMAGINATION > Rocket to the stars. The galaxy – the universe and all things being in the central core. YOU are the delight in play. Simply imagine what might be created and then get out of the way – the ideas will arrive like a waterfall…………and you will ride the wave into the galactic center where creation thrives.
Simply to be alive is a blessing. The will to thrive is an asset. Give it your best shot and you will discover the holy grail of being alive. Thrive – and allow – all that is to wash over you. That is the wonder hidden between the planes – the dimensions the unseen realms where all who are unlike and alike are waiting to enter the room. If you see them – say hello as they are all fellow creations and creators.
It is a complex tapestry – intended as such to provide illumination and the fractals of being to collectively fuel the momentum of being and creating – wonders never cease. Truly – and that game is afoot. Find a wonder each and every moment and you – discover – “die – recover” – the secret of infinite pleasure – treasures in the moment. Aloha! Be wonder-full today!
The message gave me a question to live with: What have I yet to create? The golden hare gave that question an image.
The seeds may already be here
That is often how I experience guidance. Something attracts my attention. An image connects with a phrase. A story someone else has created supplies a piece I had not known I was looking for. The pieces begin to rearrange themselves, and a possibility comes into view.
A conversation, a childhood story, an emblem, an unusual encounter, a sentence scribbled in a notebook. We gather more material than we can immediately understand or use. Some of it remains dormant until another experience gives it a context. Then something clicks.
A familiar image acquires a new association. An old question becomes relevant again. Material that seemed unrelated begins to form a pattern. I think of these moments as prompts for recognition. Sometimes I am remembering something I encountered before. Sometimes I am discovering a new relationship among things I already know.
The golden hare gathered curiosity, hidden treasure, imagination, and the willingness to follow an unfinished story into a single image. Something wants to be known. And I want to know more.
My nightlight experiences are part of this larger conversation in my life. The flickering catches my attention, and I associate it with an ongoing thread of inquiry. Who the heck are these others I experience as offering cues and clues? Really? Do I know? Can I know? Do I have access to the whole picture? What am I supposed to do with this?
I still have questions. I cannot establish the source of every meaningful coincidence, but I can explore what it brings into focus. The experience and my explanation of it can remain separate entries in the notebook. What I do next is my choice.
From the mind field to the muck field
The message describes a mind crowded with material that needs sorting. That room is totally familiar. Alive and overflowing with other people’s opinions, inherited expectations, unfinished concerns, intriguing ideas, gobsmacking distractions — and the occasional thought that has been hanging around for years without paying rent.
The work is to disentangle it. What did I actually experience? What meaning have I attached to it? Which association belongs to my present question? Which one am I trying to force into place because I would like a particular answer? Resonance gives me somewhere to begin. It tells me something has engaged my attention. I still need to examine what I am making of it.
The message asks what would be most helpful in creating “a world or a state worth receiving.” That phrase stays with me because I know I am co-creating this. My actions, energy, and focus matter. What am I helping to make through my attention, choices, and work? What would I welcome into the life I actually live?
Those questions bring the cosmic language back to the breakfast nook.
The stories we bring into the room
We each arrive with a toolbox — and much of what goes into it was made before we got here. Some people find their language in religious emblems and philosophy. Others turn to fantasy, occult traditions, science, art, or stories of encounters with unfamiliar intelligence. These forms provide ways to approach experiences that can be difficult to describe.
I find meaning in creations other people are presenting. Their work can trigger an association, offer a vocabulary, or show me where the existing vocabulary feels too small.
Alice in Wonderland. The Wizard of Oz. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Harry Potter.
For me, these stories invite questions about what we accept as ordinary, what we overlook, and what happens when the world becomes larger than our explanations.
And that is where the next act of creation begins. I take something apart, turn it around, and discover that it fits beside something else. A new pattern emerges. It needs a name, an image, a story — some form through which it can enter a conversation.
This is what I mean by an opportunity for embodiment: giving an emerging possibility enough shape that another person can encounter it.
In my thinking, ETs belong in this exploration because the possibility of unfamiliar intelligence challenges the beginner’s mind. What might intelligence look like beyond the identities we already recognize? What assumptions would we reconsider? How would we learn to participate in a reality that exceeded our present understanding?
Stew. Stir the pot. Innovate. Evolve. Recreate.
My spiritual perspective is that everything in the manifest plane is a creation. That prompts me to examine the forms around me: how they came to be, what sustains them, and what else might become possible. When I recognize that a story, an identity, or an expectation has been constructed, I can ask whether I still need to inhabit it in the same way. That realization feels like release.
I am free to fly.
The adults did not shrink
Another image helped me understand the process: a very small child standing between two adults who tower alongside them. The figures need no gender, no detailed faces, no elaborate setting. Their scale tells the story.
We enter the room as infants or novices, in awe of what has been laid out before us. Other people possess skills, language, and experience we have yet to acquire. From where we stand, they seem enormous.
We observe. We ask. We attempt something and get it wrong. We gather information and learn how to use it. Gradually, we become capable of participating in what once seemed beyond us. The adults did not shrink.
We grew.
Eventually, we may stand among the people we once regarded with awe — and someone new enters the room looking at us in much the same way. We pass along what we have learned. Then we enter another room and discover how much remains unfamiliar.
That pattern can extend into the next realm: an ongoing expansion of awareness, with opportunities to learn, contribute, and begin again. That changes how I imagine the Wizard of Oz. I can picture passing behind the curtain, acknowledging the wizard, and thanking him for holding it up while I learned enough to understand the arrangement.
Some explanations become useful only when we have acquired enough experience to work with them. Growing also means learning to question the curtain. The child gains enough awareness to examine the room, recognize its occupants, and contribute something of their own.
The rabbit I had already welcomed
Writing about and envisioning these rabbits stirred a childhood memory of a favorite film: Harvey.
I KNEW, without a doubt, that this could be a real story. My own imaginary childhood friend (Heygo) helped me keep that personal truth intact. James Stewart’s character, Elwood P. Dowd, has a giant rabbit companion whom others cannot see. What stayed with me was the possibility of that friendship.
Then another memory surfaced: Mr. Rabbit and the Lovely Present, 1962. A favorite childhood book — and the earliest rabbit encounter I now remember. I still have my copy. The pages are torn, the cover barely intact.
A treasure.
Before I began tracing this trail, there was Mr. Rabbit. I had forgotten his place in the story, but I had kept the book. It would seem this rabbit has been with me all along. Only now am I noticing how often I have welcomed it into my imagination — and wondering where I might follow it next.
Alice’s White Rabbit. Harvey. The rabbit tattoo in The Matrix. The golden hare. Different stories, different invitations. Curiosity. Companionship. A challenge to familiar reality. The possibility of something waiting to be created.
One distinction belongs here: the rabbit tattoo appears in the Wachowskis’ The Matrix. Philip K. Dick’s account involved a golden fish necklace. I see a thematic connection in these symbols prompting recognition; I am not presenting Dick’s encounter as the established origin of the film’s rabbit.
Recognition can arrive long after the first introduction. A story delights us before we have words for why. Years later, another image brings it back, and we discover a connection.
Throw the thoughts in a pot
The message returns me to the engagement itself: what we think, what catches our attention, what makes us want to participate. As a writer, I find that freeing. The finished article matters. So does the activity that makes it possible. A piece of writing can change the person writing it before anyone else reads a word.
When someone does read it, the process continues. They bring their own memories and questions. Something I have written may become an ingredient in a creation I will never see. The message calls imagination fuel. It asks for incentive: an idea, a goal, a role that makes life interesting. I understand that.
I gave myself permission to have fun. So — I am writing. And I want to leave room for quiet. A silent interval can be where an idea develops. Some connections emerge only after I stop trying to force them.
Which brings me to the recipe: Throw the thoughts in a pot.
Let it cook.
Gather the ingredients.
Record the image, the phrase, the coincidence, the question.
Notice what connects and what remains unresolved.
Try something small: Write a scene. Make an image. Read further.
Then give it time.
Let it ride.
Let it reset.
Let it set.
Return to ordinary life.
There is no requirement to turn every occurrence into a clue. Some ingredients will prove useful; others will lose their appeal. The result may arrive in a form I could not have predicted at the beginning.
The hare invites me to follow. The cooking pot reminds me to be patient. Both are part of the process.
Your invitation
What image, story, or character has remained with you? What did you love before you felt required to explain why? What might you create if you gave that interest a little room? Revisit what you remember, what it means to you now, and what you would like to explore.
This is how guidance becomes useful to me: a seed catches my attention; recognition prompts a question; reflection helps me disentangle what I have gathered; imagination offers a form; and time lets me discover what is worth carrying forward.
The opportunity may be modest. A paragraph. A fresh understanding. It may become something larger. I have no idea how it will proceed. I just have to start. I may get a paranomal prompt. The nightlight might offer a trigger. Or not. Some days are easier than others. I start anyway.
And then the perfectly timed example of how that unplanned process unfolds appears.
Lo and behold — another Rabbit
Just as I was preparing to publish this piece, I discovered RM McLaren’s interview with Cosmic Librarian.
The guest described a startling childhood memory. At about five years old, waking in an old Texas farmhouse, they remembered seeing a large black rabbit where their younger sister had been sleeping. The experience frightened them, and they kept it to themselves for many years. That is their recollection.
(It is important to mention that UFOs are also in their story.)
What caught my attention was what happened afterward. At about seven, they saw Harvey. The film changed their relationship to the memory. They described continuing to take the experience seriously while finding a way to approach it with less fear.
Harvey again. A film I had loved as a child had also given someone else a way to revisit an unusual experience. Our stories are different. Yet here was the process I had been writing about: a creation offered by someone else supplies a new way to engage with something we already carry. The remembered event remains; its meaning can change.
The timing felt like a fitting footnote to this whole exercise. It gives me another connection to consider — and another reason to keep listening. I was about to finish an article about following the rabbit. Instead, I found another reason to keep the ending open.
“Things that are impossible in one world view are totally possible in another.” — Jeffrey J. Kripal, interview with Punk Rock and UFOs, 2018. Source
Was I done? Not quite…
One more thing
Last question. Are Rabbits somehow another related element in the Owl/Alien enigma? See Mike Clelland – “The owls are not what they seem.” Link. He wants to hear your owl stories. Website: link
FYI – This trivia item sparked my wondering Rabbit adventure. The Golden Hare: In 1979, artist Kit Williams buried the handcrafted 18-carat gold jewel, then worth about £5,000, in Ampthill Park, Bedfordshire, with TV presenter Bamber Gascoigne as the sole witness.
Mr Williams created Masquerade, a book filled with cryptic riddles pointing to the hare’s location, which attracted treasure hunters from around the globe before it was finally unearthed in 1982. The hare was auctioned by Sotheby’s, having previously been sold by the same auction house in 1988. BBC includes image.
Masquerade: The book featuring the hare that started a treasure hunt frenzy and a drama when the identity of the winner was eventually uncovered. Wiki. Masquerade is now recognised as the inspiration for a genre of books known today as armchair treasure hunts.
Discover more from Conscious Living & Wendy's Coffeehouse
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
