This Book.

The Rabbit Box, a book in a series of books written in the 70s by Joseph Pintauro, has haunted me for a decade, and I haven’t even read it yet.

The below excerpt ignited a deep empathetic connection to the natural cycle of life and death.

“If you were hunted but walked into meadows to feel the blue of the sky at the price of your life, you know my name. I am the rabbit.”

It reminded me how easy we have our survival, speaking as a human being living in the western world, and how deeply ungrateful we are, for the most part. The majority of us live safe existences, with our biggest threats coming from within.

I am tearfully humbled by this, and am desperate to read the rest of the books.

They are sold out everywhere and now regarded as a collectable. I even emailed Joseph Pintauro himself to see if he had a digital copy or new where I might be able to get a hold of one, but he very kindly told me they are quite rare to come by.

This is on my bucket list.