Archives for posts with tag: walking meditation

It’s a Monday morning. This has only whatever significance I choose to give it. Does my choice to face Monday differently (than ‘Oh, damn, not another Monday’, for example) also determine the outcome? Will I most certainly enjoy a lovely calm Monday without any challenges or stress simply by changing my assumptions going into the day? Realistically, there are no guarantees – I might have a terrible Monday however positive I feel going into it.

When I started down this path, I held onto the fairly childlike notion that good choices, and being open to success and positive outcomes would be enough to ensure the successes and positive outcomes would occur. It was incredibly disappointing the first many times I had a straight up no bullshit bad day – I’d chosen so well! I’d been so positive! I’ve learned a lot more since then. I’ve learned that my will is not the only will that is involved in my outcome – and that whatever the outcome, itself, I still have opportunities to enjoy what is enjoyable, to savor things that nurture me, and to learn from what wasn’t so pleasant. Those good choices all still matter – even if the day goes sideways, or ends poorly – because they determine more than merely the outcome. They say something about who I am, and build memory and experience. All of that matters.

Yesterday I had planned to go for a solo hike in a nearby park I’ve never visited. I planned to get there on transit, and it looked pretty easy to do. I checked my route again on Friday. I woke ready to go, yesterday, and was out the door at the time I had intended to be. The day was beautiful. I got downtown to my transfer point, and checked the bus timing; there was just one bus listed as going to the park I had in mind. Right – Sunday. I had checked the bus schedule on a weekday and failed to account for Sundays. No matter, I check my map again and notice the Sunday bus would still get me within a half an hour’s walk of the park itself. Close enough…right? (Can I pause to observe how convenient this technology is? This powerful computer in the palm of my hand can do so much!) A closer look reveals the walking portion of my route is along a detour – with no pedestrian space. Well…that’s a plan changer, right there. I might walk a few feet along a busy road without a sidewalk or pedestrian easement, but doing so for half an hour, early in the morning seems foolish without at least wearing reflective gear of some kind – and I wasn’t prepared.

A change of plans requires a change in perspective.

A change of plans requires a change in perspective.

As little as 3 years ago, I might have been frustrated to the point of being sensitive and easily angered, and disappointment would likely have been a companion for some hours, at least. A year or two ago, I’d have taken a few minutes to let that go, and moved on with my day with acceptance – probably returning home to ‘start over’ somehow. Yesterday was different – and delightfully not at all ‘special’ in this regard – I was barely disappointed enough to register the emotion as being part of my experience, and took time to enjoy quite an exceptional coffee at a favorite cafe, and a well-chosen pastry to complement the coffee (ensuring the low blood sugar didn’t complicate disappointment; it was time for some calories). I didn’t waste time fussing that my plan had fallen apart – the park exists, there are more days in the future (as far as I know), and there is so much that can be done with a lovely Sunday. I sipped my coffee, munched my pastry, and watched people come and go while giving the day some thought, without stress or anxiety.

Taking care of me.

Taking care of me.

Back to the wonder of the technology in my hand…I used it while enjoying my coffee to determine what other area attractions of interest to me might be a good ‘plan B’ for my Sunday adventure. Thank you, Science! Thank you, HTC! Thank you, Android! Thank you, Google! Thank you, DARPA and all the contributing developers of the World Wide Web and the Internet! I don’t say thank you enough, but I do benefit every day from the device you have put in my hands.

I observed on the map that a short walk, followed by a short bus ride, would put me on a trail to the International Rose Test Garden located in Washington Park, and felt the excitement of surprise and delight that goes with discovering ‘a better way’ to get somewhere I really like to go. The Japanese Garden is located nearby, too…and miles and miles of the Wildwood Trail, which I have walked very little of in the years I’ve lived in the area…my Sunday quickly began to take on its new form. I’d take this new route to the Rose Garden, visit the Japanese Garden, too, and enjoy the trails to, from, and between, along the way.

New path, new perspective.

New path, new perspective.

I made good choices, and the outcome was pleasant and worthwhile. I’m not sure how connected our choices are to our outcomes, though – sometimes more than others, it would seem, and I admit to being a bit confused by that sometimes, even now.  Acceptance of change is a big piece of the contentment puzzle, and it surely helps to be flexible and adaptable in the face of change. Perspective has a say in my outcomes, too, providing me an opportunity to build a different understanding of my experience, and perhaps a moment of calm in the face of the turmoil of change or an experience of disappointment. My assumptions, and the way I define the elements of my experience, will also have a say in my perception of the outcome; we are creatures of both emotion and reason, and my will can be applied to my thinking as well as my choices. I think what I am getting at is that I have a new understanding of choice and outcome. There’s a gap between them, filled with opportunities to learn, grow, consider, observe, enjoy, adapt, accept…and that gap is a worthy moment to be present and engaged, and to savor life. Or something. Your results may vary.

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. :-)

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. 🙂

Today is a good day to make good choices, and roll with changes. Today is a good day to enjoy the journey. Today is a good day to be my own cartographer; perhaps a good map can change the way I see the world?

I slept rather poorly and feel a little groggy, and less sharp than usual. The morning is quiet and gentle on my consciousness. The house is still. I feel generally content, calm, and if not delighted, certainly I feel decently well and whole. My coffee tastes very good, and the heat of the cup warms my hands. I feel rather stiff, and movement is more awkward than I’d like it to be – and this will likely ease with a bit more yoga, some walking, and getting the day going. My pain is ‘managed’, and simply exists in the background in a less noteworthy way than it often does. Spring is here, summer on its way, and for a few weeks I will likely get some measure of relief from the worst of my pain, before autumn returns.

In general, this morning is quite lovely, relaxed, and quiet. This leisurely stillness and these few relaxed moments in the morning, are a favorite feature of life, for me.

In contrast with the stillness and calm of the morning, itself, I notice my bed is in a total state of disarray. Odd, because I often sleep in a very still way, without overturning or disturbing the covers  much at all – often enough, that it is quite characteristic of my sleep. Nights like last night look almost as if someone else slept in my bed, or perhaps a very small tornado hit just right there, in the middle of the bed. With the restless night behind me, I don’t stop to wonder ‘why’ or to probe the remnants of my dreams for answers. It isn’t truly relevant to my waking experience of ‘now’, and pursuing idle curiosity about forgotten dreams sometimes leads into darkness. I have no time for darkness, today.

Sometimes the path I walk seems well lit.

Sometimes the path I walk seems bathed in light.

There are quiet a few opportunities along my journey to choose to continue on, rather than taking the time to become mired in something painful, awkward, or unpleasant. Like any solo hike, I’m sort of ‘on my own’ in life, making my own choices, pursuing my own goals, learning the life lessons most relevant to me in the moment, and finding my own way out of the darkness. Solo hiking is good metaphor, here, especially because even solo hiking is rarely entirely utterly solitary throughout; we pass by each other on the trail, sometimes we walk alongside a friend and our journey is less solitary for some while, we have chance encounters with strangers on their own journeys, we reach out to others for connection, contact, or help. It’s still our own journey. We are each having our own experience. Life is a long solo hike through moments, hours, days, years…I am fortunate that, in spite of the chaos and damage, I know love.

Sometimes the path seems more challenging; it's helpful to have something to hold on to.

Sometimes the path seems more challenging; it’s helpful to have something to hold on to.

Knowing love, sometimes I find myself suffering; I occasionally blame love, itself, for my choice to suffer. It’s not actually the fault of love that I am capable of suffering over, or for, or about love; it’s a very human thing, tending to indicate I am unskilled at love and loving, more than saying anything about love’s own qualities.

Since we’re human beings, we make mistakes. We cause others to suffer. We hurt our loved ones, and we feel regret. But without making mistakes, there is no way to learn. If you can learn from your mistakes, then you have already transformed garbage into flowers. Very often, our mistakes come from our unskillfulness, and not because we want to harm one another.”

from “How to Love” by Thich Nhat Hanh

I continue to practice, to be a student of love, and to take to heart such wisdom as I find in the world that speaks to me. I continue to walk on, to walk it off, to walk away from what doesn’t work well for me, to continue toward practices and choices that work well for me, and tend to strengthen my ability to love, and to love well. I’m not seeking an achievement, a goal, an award, or any recognition on this one; it is the journey that matters, and the choices I make along the way. I regularly stumble on missed ‘take care of me, first’ moments, as if not noticing a snag along a trail; I learn from each miss how important good self-care is, whether it is taking my Rx medication on time, keeping an eye on my blood sugar, getting enough rest, or simply showing myself some kindness in the face of some mistake or another. I am only able to love well when I am also very high on my list of people I love…really high on my list. Like… first. Sure, sometimes I do find it hard to put me at the top of my list; the effort to do so, and to treat myself truly well, pays off in how much more easily I am able to love others when I am well-cared for from within. Experience suggests that when I care for myself well, and treat myself with kindness and affection, I am also easier to love. So…no down side to treating myself well, then. 🙂

One moment of many; an opportunity to breathe, to observe, and to be.

One moment of many; an opportunity to breathe, to observe, and to be.

It’s a lovely day for forward momentum, and a lovely day to walk my own path. Today is a good day to enjoy my experience of myself, and to embrace and nurture the qualities of heart and mind that I value in myself.  Today is a good day to smile at strangers and wish them well; they are each walking a path of their own choosing, toward an unknown destination, and worthy of well-wishes wishes, consideration, and good-natured regard. Today is a good day to look ahead with gratitude and appreciation. Today is a good day to change the world.

I am the hiker. I am the flower along the trail.

I am the hiker. I am the flower along the trail.

I took a long walk today, something short of ‘hiking’, but much more than a walk around the block, or to the store. I spent a mellow hour or so among the trees in a nearby nature park, a favorite place that was once part of my daily commute, on foot, to and from work each day. That seems an eternity ago, but in any case, it’s neither here nor there – it’s in the past. I walked paths I hadn’t walked before, and happily observed a couple new ones – or perhaps placed such that I simply hadn’t gotten to them, previously; they were new to me, and that was enough to count them as new, on my walk today. Camera in hand, questions in mind, and some mostly unmeasured time to walk, meditate, and be present, aware.

I feel more prepared for 2015, and in the quiet moments between hanging out with family, and finding my way to sleep, I am enjoying taking a look at the day’s pictures, as well as the experience, emotions, and thoughts they represent for me now. I hope the New Year finds you well, hopeful, encouraged, and ready to continue your journey, wherever it may lead you. Thank you for reading – it never stops being meaningful that there are people on the other end of this handful of words. You matter to me.

My New Year’s celebration, my thoughts along my walk today, are rather more personal than the sort of things I generally share so easily. Rather than feel naked and uneasy sharing things I don’t comfortably express, lack words for, find ‘too private’, or may actually just not be meaningful for anyone but me, I’ll share some of today’s pictures, and some observations. It’s enough. 🙂

...Come on, now; this is why we can't have nice things. :-\

…Come on, now; this is why we can’t have nice things. :-\

As I entered the park, I felt sad, disappointed, and angry that people don’t have enough ‘pride of place’ to want to care for the world we all share. I’m not sure I know what to do about it, beyond choosing, myself, not to litter, leave shopping carts misplaced far from stores, drop soda cans along sidewalks, or dump major appliances down hillsides. I guess it’s a start.

A fusion of nature and craftsmanship.

A fusion of nature and craftsmanship.

I entered the park and noticed some vaguely bowl-shaped stones here and there, and considered what a lovely bird bath something like that would be in my garden. I find the functional stone, and the carved detail added later beautiful, and seeming very sturdy; something that could be counted on. I walk on, reflecting on my desire to feel secure in my life, and in my relationships.

Every moment has something to teach me; there's no knowing what may be around the next bend.

Every moment has something to teach me; there’s no knowing what may be around the next bend.

I inhaled the chill winter air as I walked new paths. Again and again, I was struck by the quality of the winter afternoon sunlight. Again and again, I was frustrated in my attempts to capture it. I stopped looking for perfection, and began accepting what the camera revealed to me.

Winter forest, winter sky - I see mostly what I expect to see, when I expect to see something particular.

Winter forest, winter sky – I see mostly what I expect to see, when I expect to see something particular.

I walked through areas of the park I used to avoid for ‘safety reasons’. Not that the park is unsafe in any noteworthy way; I fell and hurt myself pretty badly there, once, tripping over an exposed tree root that I didn’t see – I wasn’t looking. That was a day I felt incredibly happy, and I was looking up, and around, and enjoying birdsong, and singing holiday carols to myself as I walked along – I definitely wasn’t looking at the ground. While that’s lovely, lacking sufficient mindfulness to successfully walk to work without hurting myself is probably not something to brag about. I walked paths, today, that were rife with twisted knots and braids of tree roots without any particular concern – or lack of awareness. I was aware of the tree roots, among the many details I observed along the way, and enjoyed them as an opportunity to refine the mindfulness practices that add so much to my experience now; I’m always practicing, that’s how these practices work. 🙂 It felt like a huge triumph to feel so comfortable, confident, and unconcerned about an obstacle that once weighed so heavily on my experience that I gave it the power to change my path.

Winter has her lessons, too.

Winter has her lessons, too.

I enjoyed my winter walk so very much, today. I was well-prepared, and although I was walking new paths, I felt I was in familiar territory. I felt safe. I felt fearless. I felt comfortable. Funny how much being prepared can change an experience. Something as small as dressing for the winter weather can have so much value. It’s worth taking the time to prepare, even for something as simple as a winter walk. How often have I rushed out the door to do something, or go somewhere, and found myself inconvenienced because I overlooked something I needed, or suffered pointlessly for some other issue that consideration (“What can I do to prepare for this?”) could have prepared me for? How many times have I succeeded beyond my expectations or desires, on occasions that I happened to be more prepared for an event, decision, or activity?

Looking up; a common practice I use to shift perspective, and a lovely metaphor.

Looking up; a common practice I use to shift perspective, and a lovely metaphor.

There’s more to staring into the sky than meets the eye. I find the literal change in perspective does tend to fairly easily allow me to change my perspective, whatever the circumstances. Perspective has proven to be a very big deal in finding emotional resilience, contentment, and emotional self-sufficiency. I had trouble learning the lessons of compassion until I learned some of the lessons perspective has to offer. I find that perspective and compassion generally go hand in hand.

Sometimes illumination seems so near... other time, it seems a distant possibility, seen just beyond some challenge.

Sometimes illumination seems so near… other time, it seems a distant possibility, seen just beyond some challenge.

So… I walk on. Sometimes the perception that illumination is just out of reach is an illusion, a ‘trick of light’ – a matter of perspective. It may not be at all what it appears to be, in some brief moment of struggle, or frustration.

Winter reflections.

Winter reflections.

That’s really what my walk was about, for me, reflections – my own, on the year just past, and considering what to take along for the journey ahead… Who am I, today, that I wasn’t last year? Who do I hope to be on this day, next year? How do I get there, from here? In the simplest terms, it’s just a walk on a winter day, some photographs, some moments, some thoughts… I didn’t need more than that. Today is a good day to start a new year…a year of love, of consideration, of practice. Today is a good day to start a new year on a less familiar path.

How often have I suffered, or hurt, and faced someone telling me to ‘grow a thicker skin’, ‘shrug it off’, ‘walk away’, ‘move on’, ‘let it go’… How often have you? It’s funny that comes up so often, I think, because it is only in very rare circumstances that such words have had any value, or benefit, in those moments of pain.  I’m not complaining, and I’m not angry.  I’m a bit puzzled, though; where did we – any of us – get the idea that the proper and effective way to soothe, support, or console another suffering human being is to tell them to stop suffering? It’s not particularly effective, and definitely sends a clear message to the suffering person that they are somehow in the wrong to hurt.

I wrote about a thousand more bitter words in that vein this morning, before I realized I had ‘gone off topic’… because this morning I am considering with some interest and amusement that I am actually at a place in life where I am indeed, in some small way, ‘walking it off’, and have been since my journey dog-legged through a crisis and veered hard in the direction of mindfulness, and self-compassion.  I’m not trying to ‘walk it off’ in a dismissive way, devaluing the nature of my experience, or to avoid meeting my needs, or to avoid facing the things that hurt so much…I’m not running away.  I am walking. A lot. I walk every day, and even days when my walking is simply the portions of my commute I handle on foot, I get a few miles of gentle contemplation, and forward momentum.  How is it that it matters so much? (The walking – and the walking with mindfulness, particularly?)

One journey or another; getting from here to there.

One journey or another; getting from here to there.

There’s probably science to it; I haven’t studied it.  I do know that on my most challenging days, when my brain fights any moment of stillness, of awareness, of self-compassion, or contentment, no matter how vicious the ‘brain attacks’ I inflict on myself; once I’m on my feet, and walking, the breathing takes over, and I begin to find peace. Sure, I may indulge in some negative thinking, frustrated rumination, or angry ideations in those first hundreds of yards, but once miles start ticking away, my head clears, my heart feels lighter and my mind is liberated, my thinking productive and lucid. Generally.

This morning I am looking back on the evolution of getting back on my feet. I am observing the steps I took – real and metaphorical – that got my weight down, got me off psych meds that were doing more harm than good,  got me away from the mesmerizing mental junk food offered by the media, the networks, and the cable companies. Got me away from a job that was killing my soul. I took steps – and a lot of them, most of them, were real steps – feet on pavement, feet on earth.

I felt real pride the first time I walked 10 blocks to the nearest grocery store – most of it uphill – after years of being sedentary and sedated.  I felt a sense of accomplishment when I was able to visit the big farmer’s market on Saturdays; for so long I had been so uncomfortably heavy I just couldn’t walk far enough to do it.  I kept at it. No car. Everywhere I could reasonably go on foot, I planned the additional time and didn’t take transportation.  I stopped asking friends for rides places. The weight kept coming off.  The milestones, and achievements of small goals, kept adding up, and the benefits have never stopped being rewarding. Beginning to commute on foot was a really big deal – and choosing to relocate to housing that put that within reach was one of the best things I have ever done to ‘take care of me’.  I’ve been ‘walking off’ the weight for a while now. It’s steady, effective, and gradual.  It requires commitment, consistency, and a hearty application of verbs, and it does work.  It only makes sense that eventually that process would take me further… parks… trails… getaways… sanity… wellness.

One step after another.

One step after another.

I had forgotten how much walking can also free my mind. A camera, some landscape, a journey… and the world becomes a wide open space, a distant horizon, a broad vista, and it’s different when it is more than a trip to the store.  The hiking I have been doing meets a lot of varied needs for me, and practicing mindfulness matters. Storming off angrily and furiously walking an aggressively paced lap or two through residential neighborhoods and retails spaces doesn’t have the same power to bring peace and healing as mindfully walking quiet remote trails, content and aware, and I’m glad I rediscovered that.

Wide-eyed and mindful, there is value in every journey.

Wide-eyed and mindful, there is value in every journey.

I’m spending this year, 51, walking Oregon trails. I’m making an effort to ‘walk away’ from my chaos and damage, and taking a gentler pace through my experience. I’m learning to treat myself kindly walking challenging trails; taking a walking staff or trekking poles, instead of risking injury by ignoring injuries I’ve already got, planning, being prepared, being aware.  I’m shrugging off drama, and ‘moving on’ from my trauma… by moving on; setting goals, trying new trails, exploring the unknown in real places as well as within.  I’m taking progress, growth, and  healing ‘a step at a time’ – literally.

Every path leads precisely where it takes me.

Every path leads precisely where it takes me.

I’m not sure when I really started down this path, as a thing all its own… was it the 5k last fall, on that dreadful rainy, stormy day?  That was certainly an achievement, and it encouraged me to walk farther, more, and more often.  It was a good next step from commuting on foot.  Trips to the beach and my partner’s recent camping/rafting trip definitely got me excited to take yet another step… and unexpectedly it has become a weekend practice to grab my gear and head for the trees, somewhere, for a few hours, quietly walking. Since that first hike with my partners – Cooper Mountain – I’ve also hiked Tualatin Hills Nature Park (through which was my original commute on foot, and a very emotionally safe feeling solo hike), and some of the trails of the Audubon Society Park. I’ve got Sunday hikes planned ahead for most of the summer, and two solo camping trips over weekends.  Friends and family already recognize my enthusiasm and commitment to this new activity; they recommend places they have been and enjoyed, and places they think I would enjoy, myself. It’s a point of connection between many coworkers, and I. I feel engaged, and involved in my life, and enthusiastic about each new adventure.

Life's curriculum isn't always about 'the hard stuff'.

Life’s curriculum isn’t always about ‘the hard stuff’.

Meditation. Walking. Healing. It sounds too easy, and if someone would have suggested it decades ago, I don’t know that I would have been sufficiently open to take it seriously, or to give it a fair try.  Still… I’m taking steps.  I’m moving on.  I’m… walking it off.

One possible future... and one beautiful now.

One possible future… and one beautiful now.

Today is a good day to plan tomorrow’s hike, and to smile and remember other hikes, and other good days.  Today is a good day to embrace what has value. Today is a good day to take another step. Today is a good day to change the world.

I was not up to taking my new backpack for a test hike yesterday, when I started my day. I was also not really up to it a bit later in the morning, after yoga, and when I walked – without my pack – to the neighborhood farmer’s market, either.  Afternoon came around, and a partner asked me what I thought of the hike at Cooper Mountain, and handed me a map.  I looked it over pretty fearlessly; I wasn’t even considering it as a ‘right now’ option, just looking at a map. Could I do the distances involved? It looked like it. Could I handle the terrain? That looked okay, too, with the possible exception of some steeper bits, that I felt sure I could work  up to pretty quickly…

Oh - hello right now!

Oh – hello right now!

In moments we were off, headed down the road toward adventure.  According to the hiking app I installed on my smart device, by day’s end we’d managed more than 3 miles of varied terrain (3.4 for me, 3.8 for my partners who took on one more loop of trail than I did). It was good fun, and my pack fit well, felt comfortable, and delivered on the utterly necessary hydration piece I was concerned about.  I felt far more capable in practice than I had convinced myself I was.  It felt extraordinary to knock down that damaging notion and replace it with a sense of strength and capability.  Old skills and knowledge were at the ready, and I found being open to learning new technologies far less stress-inducing than hanging on to ideas that are now out-of-date (good-bye cotton, hello modern wicking fabrics!). It was fantastically fun and I am already eagerly exploring maps of the area for hikes that are easily within reach. It felt fantastic to be outside, with my partners, walking through the lovely countryside.

The wild roses were in bloom, pretty much everywhere.

The wild roses were in bloom, pretty much everywhere.

There were endless vistas...

There were endless vistas…

...paths to points beyond...

…paths to points beyond…

...cool forests...

…cool forests…

...sun-dappled trails...

…sun-dappled trails…

...and lovely expanses of meadow filled with every possible wildflower.

…and lovely expanses of meadow filled with every possible wildflower.

It was an afternoon well-spent, savored, and enjoyed in good company.

It was an afternoon well-spent, savored, and enjoyed in good company.

I wasn’t sad to head for home when we reached our vehicle; I was beat! The drive home was punctuated with laughing comments about sleeping well that night. It was a lovely experience.

Strangely… I did not sleep well. Okay, to be fair, I slept well enough, but not for very long, and the remaining many hours of night were spent split between meditation, and wondering why meditation wasn’t resulting in sleepiness. Ever. lol. For now I am awake, alert, content, and facing the work week feeling good.  Perhaps I’d simply had enough rest? I guess it is possible, although 4 hours is rarely sufficient for me; I may notice the lack by day’s end.

Until then, though, and even after… today is a very good day. It’s a very good day just as it is, and that’s a nice way to begin it.