We kept walking. The hawk flew ahead, just above us, landing in another tree up the street. A neighbor and his son were watching. Do you see the hawk, they asked. I smiled and nodded. Of course. He's following me. Of course I see him. I don't say this. But I think it. We continued on our way.

Then the hawk swooped out of the tree and over my head again, then down at my dog on the other side of the street. His talons were extended and he must have bee calculating as he dove if he'd be strong enough to pick up the Boston terrier and carry him away, evidently deciding at the last minute not to try. The hawk hadn't been following me at all. He was hunting.  

He continued to follow us down the street, settling finally in the tree in front of our house. I heeled Butler in close to me for the remainder of the walk.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Sometimes, looking for signs and portents, we intercept messages not meant for us, or in fact which aren't even messages. It's a hungry bird. Butler is a walking lunch. There was no message.

When I find myself wanting to be special, it's usually because I am feeling particularly un-special. There are body sensations--feelings--and thoughts along with them that tell me there's something wrong with me, that I don't belong, that nothing ever has changed, evolution has not occurred, I am unworthy, always have been unworthy, always will be unworthy of life.

These thoughts and feelings are by definition stress release thoughts and feelings. Nature does not think this way. Nature does not speak to itself this way. Nature does not single out any part of itself as being less valuable than any other part of itself. Nature does not berate itself. When we hear this negative voice within we have a very specific set of tools we pick up:

• We name it as stress release, and as stress release, we keep ourselves from identifying any further with it.
• We remind ourselves that we are not these thoughts and feelings. That we are something else. Something deeper than this. Even if we can't feel this deeper thing that we are, we have felt it meditation. We will feel it again.
• From the knowledge that we are something else, we get a point of view on the stress release. We say something like, wow. Look at that anger/fear/sorrow/shame/guilt/paranoia. That's a big one. Glad it's leaving my body. Better out than in.
• We step out of the speculation about who we are and what's wrong with us or with the world and we come to our senses. Literally. What am I seeing right now? What shapes, colors, shadows, light? What am I hearing? What taste is in my mouth? What can I smell? Can I feel the breeze on my skin, the floor under my feet, my hand touching my thigh? We get present with ourselves. When we are present we no longer are defined by our thoughts and feelings. We have at least the opportunity to feel ourselves as part of the whole. We make ourselves available to be healed by nature. And we give the stress release the space to finish winding its way out of our system. And we will feel lighter when it's gone.

We are special, each one of us a unique and wonderful expression of nature. When we allow ourselves to feel at one with nature, we know this. When we fall away into separation and ego, we begin to need proof. Today I'm glad that my need for proof did not allow Butler to be a hawk sandwich.

Today if I need proof of my connection with something greater, I will seek it within. I will settle down into my meditation and feel the oneness that I am, in my least excited state.

Metal Dinosaurs and Giraffes, Washington Blvd., Culver City CA