Bumpy

I had a small bunny, called Bumpy, when I was very small. He gave me great comfort by his simple being. I have no idea what he looked like in the beginning. My mother washed him and mended him and even made new ears for him out of something when I wore the old ones out.

I have no real memory of him, at least not consciously, but I am still linked to him by a small movement I make with my thumb, the very same action that wore his ears off time and again. My mother called it twiddling and to this day I find myself twiddling my thumb. I have tried to analyze the times and the reasons why, but they are nothing I can actually pin down. Of course it is a comfort mechanism. Some children suck their thumbs, others have a pacifier. I twiddled and I guess the really good thing about this is, that I would have eventually had to give up the other two. Twiddling is mine forever.

I think it is a natural part of being human to want someone who will be with me forever. Someone who can listen to my every thought and not criticize, or judge me. Someone who brings me comfort and is always here when I need him.

Expecting that from a person is asking a lot even though that person is looking for the same thing whether he, or she realizes it, or not. It is the perfect love that appears in our myths and fairy tales and religious beliefs, the ultimate quest. It is the primal memory of expectations before being conscious of I am, left over from a time when "me" meant everything.

Whether I give it a name, or not, it exists deep inside of me. I carry it with me everywhere. The need and the answer, hidden only by my ability to see it, to believe in it, to utilize it.

Maybe I'll just call it Bumpy!