“I am this tree,” as I hold my right hand onto the breast of the big, beautiful, tropical looking tree in the back yard.  

Arms up, I don’t try so hard now.  I look up, “I am this tree,” and for the first time I AM the tree.  I feel like the tree is ME.  It is like the tree is in my body, when I imagine what the inside of my body looks like, it is the tree on a beautiful, cloudy, warm, fall day.  

“I am this tree,” in all it’s spaciousness, there is no separation.  I am this that I am.

How can being space create more space for connection?