Two nights ago, a praying mantis had jumped, (well, I really don't know about that part, how it did it) onto my jacket shoulder unbeknownst to me, while walking down the hill to the prayer hall. When I joined my wife who was waiting, she immediately got startled. She spoke hurriedly to me, "What's on your jacket?!"

She brushed it off, and I gently picked it up, a cute skinny, passive insect. I brought it outside, leaving it on the stair post in the front of the doors.

This little guy wanted to fulfill its namesake. It wanted to join us for our prayer time. 

It had big beads for eyes, that jutted out from its thin, triangular face. Its eyes took up half its face space. My wife wanted me to memorialize the moment and take a picture. It was a moment -- of sorts. Not really startling but rather a tickling reminder of how creation is close to us. 

To my surprise, the next evening, walking up the stairs, I could see my skinny friend perched on that same post, standing watch as a sentry. I'm assuming it was the same praying mantis, unless he's taking shift breaks with his brother.

This guy stood at attention. I walked up to it, eye to eye. Slowly, deliberately, it turned its triangle head, and very carefully, with its oversized eyes, scanned me, taking me in again, sizing me up, either as the rascal who prevented his entry into the prayer room the previous night or as the friend who gave him a noble perch, upon which he handsomely protected our prayer hall for 24 hours.

I don't speak praying-mantis-ese, so I'm really not sure about all that. But, this guy seems to like his spot in front of our prayer hall.

What he tells me about creation, the living world -- the animals, the birds, the insects -- is they want to interact with human beings. Maybe nature appreciates prayer. Creatures are not mindless. They are beings attracted to love. Beings. Attracted to love.

I love this little guy. His beady eyes almost hypnotize me. If I could, I would put him on my shoulder again and talk to him like Geppetto talked to his puppets to bring them into life. In a way, this thought reminds me of the song "You Raise Me Up," the line about "when I'm on your shoulder." 

You know. The animals, the insects, the birds. They live in pure fashion. When they repose on branches or search for acorns, their mind contains no antagonism over failed obligations, no worries about bills and children. Their mind is clean. 

I feel their prayer is ours, too.


8:07 AM October 21, 2026, Wednesday.