The Mindful Hiker:
Moon on the Man
Awareness of Earth is first felt through the feet, but seldom do we notice our essential contact with the Earth, our actual groundedness.
We notice primarily the terrain—whether it is trail, sidewalk, lot, or street—and seldom feel its variety, its slope, grade, grain, and texture.
The winter rain carves small rivulet canyons on the trail. As steady and gentle as breath, the rain puts me into a mood different from the one I was in when I arrived.
As always, it quiets me, allows me to hear my heartbeat.
Earlier today, as I went about my Saturday errands all rubberized and insulated, and moving at speeds better suited to a machine, I was too frenzied to hear anything so delicate as my heartbeat. Perhaps that is actually how fast I should be moving—fast enough to do what needs to be done but still able to feel and hear my heart.
Moving at such a pace, I could reply, "Yes, it's a good day," to someone who might inquire about my day. "I heard my heart."
I like slowing the pace of life. I like the perspective it affords of time lived. Objectively, all life lives at the same pace. It’s the mind that makes differences.
Time speeds by or lags depending on how much or what we are doing. Busyness clouds our awareness of our feelings, thoughts, and senses, and creates the illusion that time rules us.
What results is a continuous chain of beginnings, a venerating of the new to the exclusion of the old that obliterates our awareness of each moment as an interweaving of endings and beginnings. But on and around the trail, both endings and beginnings cycle in harmony, in awareness, in renewal.
During the time of the full moon, I look forward to the ending of daylight like a child longing for a toy he knows his uncle will bring.
I plan my walk for daylight throughout so I can see all the glories of the trail. Still, planning builds a wall around time and spontaneity. We spend so much time planning our time and even planning to plan our time, as when couples agree to set aside time to plan their weekend.
And plans can sound good when drafted, but when the time comes to carry them out, we may be in a different mood, or perhaps we’re not feeling well, but because of our ironclad plan, we feel compelled to follow through.
The Mindful Hiker: On the trail to find the path (DeVorss & Co. May, 2004). Available at booksellers or directly from the publisher at www.devorss.com.
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