There once was a time that I imagined myself as some kind of reincarnation of Francis of Assisi. It was an image that was encouraged by my living in a monastic setting and wearing the robes of a franciscan friar.
I remember thinking that this was a bit pretentious. It all seemed incompatible with humility. At the time, I probably would have described my bold fantasy as a form of imitation of Francis, not in all things but certainly in his connection to Nature. I think I also envied and perhaps wanted his deep connection with Clare.
I now see this connection with Francis as much more than simple imitation. Regardless whether there is true reincarnation, I think I experience something of Francis living in me. It is a little like knowing, recognizing his presence. The centuries melt away, and I feel a real connection with his spirit. In some ways, he is alive in me.
We do share the same essential spark, we are joined in the Humming. But it is his involvement with the natural world that I identify with and can most recognize. I am beginning to think that his mysticism is equally attractive to me, but that realization is still unfolding.
There is no statue of Francis in my garden, but I think he lives there when I walk thru it. He is not a model, not a patron, not a protector. He is here.