Showing posts with label walking meditation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walking meditation. Show all posts

Saturday, February 15, 2014

DAY 30 !


The last day of my 30 - day challenge. 
The first day of my life-time challenge: to walk mindfully everyday.
I realized that walking everyday is like the idea of non-resistance in life.
This idea teaches us that the cause of our suffering is not our circumstances or reality but our resistance to it.
Walking everyday is like a microcosm of this. A walking metaphor perhaps.
Everyday I  have to accept and open myself up to what the day is:
it's reality - rain, sun , snow, gentle breeze, wind, cold or heat and walk into it.
It is. and I am. 
There will be days, and there were days,
when it's difficult to face reality.
And being open to everything in life is not really possible, how can we not resist death and suffering?
But you probably know this from experience as I do,
suffering is far greater and drawn out when we resist reality
and only deeper if we let go and allow it in,
knit it into ourselves and it becomes a sturdy row
of the fabric of our life.
What is real and true will ground us.
Like walking.
It's been freaking cold out there. I wanted to stay put and drink tea on the sofa.
I didn't want to wrap myself in layer upon layer and brace myself
for cold's bite.
I sighed. I moaned. 
But I did it. And it taught me 
this lesson.
Life is richer, deeper, and far more lovely
 when you face it.
I know I will need to learn this over and over again.
so I walk.




Saturday, February 1, 2014

Day 16

Walking in the woods on a windless, snowy day is a walking meditation.
 It's silent but for the sound of snowflakes.
That is the first thing you notice. 
Then you feel immediately removed from your kaleidescope life
as if a heavy curtain is being drawn behind you.
The woods is what is real now. 
Snowflakes kiss your cheeks.
The trees silently greet you and bear your passing against their branches.
You are among them now, they embrace you as one of their own.
Your attention is drawn into the exquisite pattern of snow on bark,
 the dripping of ice-sleeved branches.
You pay attention but you remain wordless. Nothing demands a response.
It just is. It quietly unfolds it's being in front of you.
 As you unfold yours.