Last weekend Astrid received a new, wood castle tower to replace her toppling over, cardboard carrot cottage. I got her the cottage when she first came home to live with us and she immediately went at renovating it by chewing open the carrot windows and widening doorways to let in more light, create clearer vision, and have easier in-and-out access. Eventually, she started chewing the backside wall almost completely where the second story sat above the first, and the whole house became the Leaning Tower of Pisa – or like a friend said, “the Leaning Tower of Carrot.”
And this is where today’s blog inspiration comes from, as Astrid points out, “There is nothing random about this, mom. Reflect back for a moment and you’ll see what I mean.”
She’s right. When I first gave her the carrot cottage we were living in our condo – the tree house in the sky above Lake Tahoe – and were in a bit of flux with our living situation and decisions on what we wanted to create from there, what home looked like to us, new ideas around business ventures and long-term planning, and even what I wanted to do with my current inspirations of writing and so forth.
Hence, a bio-degradable, non-permanent, and easily mobile carrot cottage for Astrid – my reflective counterpart.
But just as we outgrew our tree house and decided upon a forest-side dream home that we, too, wanted to renovate, Astrid let out her energy larger and larger and I began to create a room of similar dream-home quality for her.
This all coincided with us rapidly moving many parts of our life at once, and setting into place brand new foundations that were strongly anchored, but also much more integrated and balanced. We continued to fine-tune our lives, cleared out the old, listened to what our hearts had to say, and worked on getting greater clarity of focus and efficiency while building and recreating.
Astrid continued to mirror this and more and more shifts to her little Wonderland realm began to happen while I listened to her needs and saw her for who she is. So, even what she started off with when first moving into this home, transformed. Much like it did for me.
All but that cardboard carrot cottage, which every morning she would chew away on more and more.
She tells me that she was doing this for three-fold reason.
One, she was moving energy through that chewing, as rabbits do, and this in reflection and addition to changes she processes and supports beyond even herself.
Two, she was trying to get my attention that this house just won’t do anymore. “I want a better lookout place to oversee things in the forest and to see into the Cosmos when the stars come out. I want a stronger fortress to create boundaries when I need them from the energies abound, so I can do my work more easily. I prefer my feet feeling grounded and supported with a strong foundation, rather than walking on flimsy, moving cardboard. I prefer castles over cottages because it’s who I am and deserve it – thank you for seeing that. I want to go bigger.”
And three, she wanted to remind me about the concept of building the new, which you can’t do upon an old foundation because the new structure will simply fall down. In order to build the new, you must work from the ground up, clear out all of the old that lies deep under the surfaces as well – the hidden stuff – and then rebuild and recreate from a whole new vision. This will create something lasting.
She’s so right.
Astrid would like me to break the latter one down further into digestible pieces of understanding. So, here we go.
Many times we try to build the new, but we don’t take time to look under the demolished building to see what it was standing on in the first place.
You can’t simply just put on new clothes, change location, get plastic surgery, or buy a new car.
Whatever you carried with you from before will still be there emanating and magnetizing things regardless of what the outside looks like.
But, if you do some psychic surgery, excavate into the emotional caverns of your heart, explore the inner realms and dig up the roots of your beliefs and patterns, you can then integrate and transmute, clear, and move beyond.
Then, the new you create has the ability to firmly root in clear fresh soil, without any of the old plants fighting for nourishment and energy.
Your new won’t come toppling down surprisingly one day when these old roots start surfacing again.
Astrid knows of these things because she and her rabbit family are so connected to Mother Earth.
They hear her vibrations and understand the inner workings that support vibrant and renewing ecosystems.
They hear the vibrational frequencies emanating beneath the surface and can see beyond what we present to them.
They see things for how they really are.
And so Astrid compels us to take a deeper look.
If we want to stand firm with our new visions, then we need to be willing to tear down, chew up, and process that stuff we don’t want to experience anymore, find their gifts, and transmute them into a brand new reality.
Don’t forget your parts along the way.
If your carrot cottage no longer suits the essence of you, then build yourself a strong castle tower where you can see more clearly from.
Yet, don’t forget those roots!
Astrid thinks everyone would do well with having some rabbit teeth for those nasty little buggers.
Chew, grind, and chew again, until they’re broken down and easily digestible.
Doing so will provide the nourishment needed to create new realities based on wisdom of the past and vision of the future, integrated right here and now.
Have a question for Astrid? She welcomes you to share them and we both send a lot of love to everyone processing the old and working on creating and building the new.