WALKING MEDITATION
The walk down to the meditation yoga hall is steep. Very steep. Steeper climbing back up.
My tired old asthmatic lungs feel the steep. Slower and slower, I arrive panting, heart thumping. Breathless. Five times a day or six, til I gave up the nighttime sixth trip. Gasping, I tell myself it is probably good, good for my lungs, expanding. Maybe. (What if maybe not?) A trace of fear arises- I do not do fear. Fear. Of dying? Collapsing? Stupid? Yes. Of course.
Then after a day or so, unhappy- I like to be happy- something comes to me. In meditation? I’d like to think. (Actually, no idea!)
Walking meditation. Very very slow conscious steps, feeling the foot as the heel touches the ground, and then as it grounds and then as the toes lift and the other foot begins to rise up, to step down, micro movements, with full awareness.
This practice has always been done, by me, in meditation halls or small spaces, sometimes a verandah wrapping round the hall. Wooden floors.
Something different about an uneven tarred path on a steep hill. The foot needs to go down on the ground flat to retain balance. Often I look down and the right foot is horizontal to the vertical path, wondering where the left foot will land, wobbling. A lot of wobbles. The toe of the back foot needs to touch down before actually moving forward to its next step. The feet try the sideways movement. Like parallel skis. Only different. Can do the left foot leading, the right crossing over to parallel but hopeless with the right foot leading. Balance.
Slowly slowly each time wobbling differently, each time, off balance differently. Each time the feet having no idea where to land, or which part of which foot. Pure attention and awareness. Aspects of the Unknown. (Meditation!)
Am thinking that the muscle strength and stretch is building slow as well as fast?
For sure I arrive at the top breathing regularly. Everyone passes me.
Some inquire if I’d like a push, no thanks.
No more pounding heart.
Walking meditation.
Works.