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

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Barefoot walkabout















Today was glorious.  I woke up to perfect Sedona weather, the sun raying, birds singing, and Brewer Trail beckoning. Ingrid and I started up the trail with another friend.

Brewer Trail leads to a special place I call big rock, one of the best panoramics in town, and is about two miles straight toward the big sky.  We met a Native American man at the top of big rock, and a few brave meditative types. I wondered how many relationships healed there, and how many ideas were born there, how much reverie and introspect were discovered on this big, red rock. I wondered how many feet of different lands once stood there, and how many ancient, indigenous voices had spoken there. It's a holy place, that big rock.  The journey to big rock was filled with friendly discussions with Ingrid about life, and men, and work, and aspirations, and grief, and hope, and disappointments.

The journey back down big rock would be very different than the journey toward big rock. While I was on standing big rock, overlooking the herculean geological majesty of Sedona, I experienced a moment of perspicuity.  I decided I would walk all the way down the mountain barefoot on the rocky trail, my feet touching the ground.  

I climbed down big rock barefooted, and I felt different immediately. The direct contact from my skin to the sharp edges of the rocks and earth sent stinging sensations to my brain. Tiny rocks that had just gone unnoticed under my feet now pierced my soles, and I found myself navigating the trail with greater mindfulness of every step. I found myself in the moment, truly in each moment, not deviating from planning the next step. I had to avoid stepping on yet more cactus needles or, worse, into a hungry ant hill. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, OUCHHHH!"

For nearly two miles, I walked, and walked, and walked, feet to the burning earth, feeling every sensation. It was a ritualistic exercise in mindfulness and focus, my barefoot walkabout from Sedona's big rock.

It could have been just an impulsive oddity in which I'd chosen to engage. I could have missed the lesson of this walkabout. But I learned something from my trek down the mountain. I learned that I am stronger and more tenacious than I thought, and I that I can tolerate discomfort in exchange for the promise of learning. It affirmed that mindfulness is an important part of walking through life- awareness of surroundings and respect for the moment. I learned that I can navigate pain but not avoid it. I can adjust for rocks in the trail, and I can adjust for the barriers in life but that they are there, unavoidably, and I will face them. 

This impulsive ritual felt good- even through the pain- and I was glad to have taken something profound away from my hike. So I plan to continue the barefoot walkabout when I want to practice mindfulness. The soles of my feet will surely callus over time, but not before being sore and blistered during the process. I cannot reach the lesson without first having accepted the pain. Ah, such is life.


Friday, May 2, 2008

People Green

The current political current has turned green: Attention has turned toward Mother Earth, taking care of the planet- it's what I've always thought of as walking gently on our planet.

I've been a gentle walker since I can remember. When I was in the 6th grade, I went house-to-house garnering signatures for a Save the Whales campaign. I wrote letters to the-then-President Jimmy Carter about the need to recycle waste.  I refused to eat animals or kill bugs (see the below ladybug blog).  Back then, it wasn't vogue, and they didn't call it being green. They had other, less prepossessing, names for people who held those values.  

Today, many more people and institutions have gone green. We're realizing the impact that human beings have on our environment, from factory farming to the massively unethical corporatization of food to the decimation of the rain forests. Even churches have jumped on board the green wagon.  This is such an important time in history for people-- time to connect with our Mother Earth-- time to take care of this beautiful planet our children's children will inherit from us. Time to walk gently on this planet. It's long overdue.

In a society of consumerism and selfish indulgences, I was thinking how, as our Green IQ rises in society, we can translate that over to being people green. Being earth-friendly is necessary: But how do we walk gently with others? How do we see ourselves in the world in relationship with others.  Our People IQ suffers a lot in the West. 

I see this particularly with the bereaved. One mother who lost her son to suicide began telling people he died in a car crash. Why? Because others flooded her with painful remarks, assigning guilt to her as a mother and excusing his death because it was perceived as self-inflicted. I see this when a young baby dies and someone responds recklessly with, "At least you're young. You can have another", as if children are interchangeable and replaceable. I even see it in day-to-day relationships when one person's feelings or opinions are rejected by another, rather than respected.

What brought our society around to an increased sensitivity to the environment is an awareness about the earth and it's vulnerability.  Awareness triggers mindfulness. When we are mindful we are in the moment. Really in the moment. Aware of ourselves, our surroundings, our actions and inactions, and mostly our effects on our surroundings. Other human beings are a part of those surroundings. Are human beings not also worthy of this mindfulness? Should we not also be mindful how what we say and do- how we treat others- affects them?

Mindful living with one another may help improve our relationships, even those transitory in nature. Even the way we interact with the grocery clerk or a fellow driver can have a lasting effect- it's Physics 101- every action has an effect. Will the effect I have on both the earth and those with whom I share it be one worthy of pride or of shame?  Imagine if, in every interaction we considered this...what would the world look like?

Really, it begins with paying attention. How are you in this world? Once you recognize yourself in this world, see yourself for who you are, actions can then follow. It's the power of presence, and it benefits both nature and humanity. While for me, it can be a challenge to really live this mantra each day, I try to stay in the moment and value every interaction, both with nature and with human beings. It's something for which I try to remain mindful, each and every day. 

Turn your attention toward Mother Earth and walk gently on her. She is worthy. 

And also, turn your attention toward your fellow humans and walk gently with them. They, too, are worthy.


Be gentle and not cruel.
Embrace humility more than arrogance.
Thank others more than you accept thanks.
Feel compassion more than apathy.
See what others ignore.
Hold others close more than you push them aside.
Learn more than you teach.
Be present more than absent.
Give more than you take.
-Joanne Cacciatore


So, mindfulness will not conflict with any beliefs or traditions — religious or for that matter scientific — nor is it trying to sell you anything, especially not a new belief system or ideology. It is simply a practical way to be more in touch with the fullness of your being through a systematic process of self-observation, self-inquiry, and mindful action. There is nothing cold, analytical, or unfeeling about it. The overall tenor of mindfulness is gentle, appreciative, and nurturing. Another way to think of it would be “heartfulness.”
— Wherever You Go, There You Are

Becoming...

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The soul still sings in the darkness telling of the beauty she found there; and daring us not to think that because she passed through such tortures of anguish, doubt, dread, and horror, as has been said, she ran any the more danger of being lost in the night. Nay, in the darkness did she, rather, find herself.

--St. John, Dark Night of the Soul


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