Whispering Wyrd

What could possibly happen on a walk? More than I could have ever imagined before. That’s for sure.

I’ve increased the time and length of my daily walks and just being outdoors more in general. It’s easier this time of year because Spring is finally starting to show itself here in Santa Fe, and the days are stretching out a little longer. But what really keeps drawing me back out there is how different each walk feels even on the same trail. And, how much better I feel after these walks.

As I’ve written about before, I begin my walks using my fozhu (Buddhist meditation beads) while chanting. It’s a kind of walking meditation. After that, I shift into another form of walking meditation, matching the rhythm of my steps with my breath. And then, after that… I just walk.

I take in the mountains, the ravens, the clean, pine-scented air. If something has been weighing heavy on my mind, I let myself look at it, but a lot differently than I used to. These days, if there’s a clear solution that comes to me, then it’s no longer a problem. And if there isn’t, I try to let it go instead of carrying it around all day worrying about it. Either way, it’s no longer a problem for me any more.

That didn’t come naturally to me. It’s something I had to work at. For a long time, I held onto everything. I replayed things over and over, worried about things, turned them over and over in my mind until they became heavier than they needed to be. Letting go of things has made more difference than I expected. Walking has helped with this.

Out on the trail, I also find myself watching the animals. Especially the ravens. They’ve become some of  my favorite companions out there. It’s hard to watch them and not feel like there’s something more going on than simple “instinct” like many of my generation were taught animals had. More and more, even science is starting to point in that direction, talking about things like awareness and even a theory of mind (TOM). In other words, they experience an inner world too. They are definitely sentient and aware and make decisions. They also play and have fun. 

And honestly, when you lock eyes with one, it doesn’t feel like you’re looking at something empty. It feels like something is looking back. And that’s because there is something looking back at you. These creatures are self-aware. Not mindless “biological scenery” as some of us were taught.

Whatever we call it, instinct, awareness, consciousness, they don’t  spend their time worrying about things they can’t change. There’s something instructive in that. Much can be learned from nature if we just open ourselves to it.

I meet people out there sometimes too. Not in the hurried, distracted way we tend to meet people in everyday life, but in a slower, actually present kind of way. Most of us are out there for similar reasons, to breathe, to move, to step outside of the noise of everyday life for a while.

I’ve been trying to live more intentionally. To bring the mindfulness I practice in meditation to my whole day, in everything I do. To cultivate a sense of peace, to keep learning, to move through the world with more care and awareness. Because I know what the other way felt like. How I viewed the world during active alcoholism and addiction.

Addiction took a lot from me, and not just from me. It affected the lives of people I care about too. So now, in whatever ways I can, I try to move in a different direction. Toward something steadier and with more compassion.

One thing I’ve come to see is that peace isn’t something that can be forced onto others like some people think it can be. Real peace doesn’t need to argue or convince or convert. It doesn’t raise its voice. When it’s there, it just… is.

These walks are simple. There’s nothing complicated about them. And that’s exactly why they are so effective. That’s exactly why they are so healing and so powerful. There’s nothing forced. It makes me think of the Daoist concept of wu wei, which can be translated as “effortless effort” or getting into the “flow state”. You aren’t fighting or forcing anything, and that’s where real healing can begin.

We’re all out there, people, animals, all of us, moving through our own inner worlds while sharing the same outer one. And if you slow down enough, like really slow down, something definitely shifts. Step by step, breath by breath, the mind settles down.

And with that settling down, that’s when things start to open up. You notice more. You feel more. You realize how much has been here all along. The trees, the birds, the wind. The occasional stranger on the trail. Even yourself. Fully and completely here. Your mind not wandering to the past and not imagining a future, just right here right now.

It’s a kind of miracle. A walk can be a lot of things.

I know life gets busy. I know not everyone can get out on a trail. But maybe it doesn’t have to look a certain way. Maybe it’s just a few minutes outside. Or sitting by an open window. Or just pausing long enough to notice your own breathing.

Whatever form it takes, the important part might just be this… being here, fully and completely for a little while. If you get the chance try it. It’s been a game changer for me in my recovery.

Amituofo
~Buck