TOTEMIC POLEMIC

Most folks these days, myself included, are familiar with the word TOTEM but know only enough about the topic to disclose their ignorance. Well I read a book about it, so now you'll soon know everything, like me. Put simply, totems are the perceived spirit of an animal, plant or element of nature with which individuals and groups identify. Specific traits and capabilities, purpose and even fate are seen as shared with totems, or received from them. Such beliefs have been universal in native cultures and primitive civilizations around the world forever, and can still teach us plenty about our not-really-so-modern selves.The book's final chapter tells how to find one's totem, and after reading that far I thought why not give it a try. At least the process isn't complicated or expensive. All you do is clear your mind and simply walk out somewhere, anywhere, with no specific goal or intent other than discovery. If you do it right, the book says, your totem will manifest. Following instructions, I found myself wandering toward a single live oak on an open hillside at the base of a mountain backlit beyond. (Don't know if it mattered, but I intentionally chose the evening of summer solstice just before sundown for my experiment...) As I approached, three birds flew from that tree directly at me and then orbited very close at eye level, whisking around a blurred 3G turn. One individual was inching closer every pass.  Spontaneously, I extended my arms as in supplication while it flashed between my hands and face. I steeled myself to not flinch but just when it couldn't veer any closer without flicking my nose they all sped as quickly away, straight toward the silhouetted mountain exactly as spring dipped from sight. Only minutes after I'd started out, deep shadow swallowed them and they were gone. Stack of Bibles dang it, that's just how it happened. I walked on up to the tree, climbed it, and found no nest or other sign of the birds there. Then dusk began, and after that came summer.Though not so pompous as to expect an eagle as my totem, I confess to presuming it would be the redtail hawk. Not quite. These little zoomers were sparrowhawks, known more precisely as kestrels.  And sure enough, my general manner of flight does resemble theirs more than those bigger raptors who claim all the gravitas. So according to this protocol it was official, the sparrowhawk is my totem. A few years later I was briefly involved in promoting and demo-ing the first production sailplane for decades built in America – an innovative ultralight design that happened to be named SPARROWHAWK. (Compared to conventional sailplanes, its manner of flight also resembles the kestrel's. Surprised?)Then as many more years later, hundreds of miles away, guess what. At that operation we secured our glider overnight near the end of the prevailing runway, and one morning heading out to preflight I was assailed again by a squad of... sparrowhawks. After wheeling around my head as before, this time they didn't disappear into a sunset but flew straight down that taxiway to the glider and frolicked over it too, waiting for me. When I got there they repeated the performance once again before streaking away to bless whichever lucky soul was next on their schedule.That's all the evidence I have for now, and you could say it's merely circumstantial. But be honest, aren't most moment-to-moment decisions we make each day based on little else? It's also worth noting that in all this time my evidence to the contrary, circumstantial or otherwise, remains zero.And ultimately, even if I'm mistaken, do you suppose the sparrowhawk minds?