As Oprah intoned, and I’m now paraphrasing, we ought to hold ourselves accountable for the type of energy we bring to a table. I’ve started to view people, environments, and situations in terms of the energy they give off. A person’s energy is more adjustable and more contagious than his or her personality.
A little bundle of sage (an herbal energy cleanser) has come into my world and I finally burned a stick of it in my current home, a place where I haven’t experienced much outright negativity (other than a few buzzkill guests), but who knows what’s dormant? I occasionally get the junk mail of two previous tenants. One has an interest in literary events; the other either suffers from Crohn’s Disease or strongly empathizes with those who do. Both seem harmless, and I know famous last words when I write them.
I would love some liquified sage that I could carry around in a reusable spray-pump bottle and release into the atmosphere whenever someone has tainted a decent vibe. Liquid sage, which bottlers should market as a kinder and gentler alternative to Mace, is out there somewhere and that’s what any Bunnies of Easter Yet to Come should plan on leaving in my basket.