Category Archives: walking meditation

Wise Action Keeps Us Moving

At the core of Wise Action is the felt sense of our physical bodies moving through space. So often we go mindless as we move about, distracted by thoughts, sights and other multitasking activities. Is this wise? Think about some time when you had an accident while moving your body (or a vehicle) through space. Would that accident have happened if you had been totally present in your body? When I brought this subject up to the class, every student responded to the topic with a story of having fallen down. So even though this is an important topic for everyone, it clearly becomes increasingly important as we age. I led the meditators in a walking exercise that was similar to a walking meditation, in that our focus was to be present in the felt sense of our bodies, particularly the lower part of the body. It differed from a typical walking meditation in that, to whatever degree we were able, we maintained the mindfulness while bringing the pace up to a more normal level. The aim is to be able to be present while going about our daily activities. Is it possible to be so present? Yes, we can train the mind to use a percentage of our awareness to anchor into the felt sense of moving through space. We can use a percentage of our visual awareness to purposefully notice the relationship of our body to other objects. This is not a fear-based instruction in how to navigate through a minefield of hazards, as if we were playing a video game. If we are rooted in fear, we create more tension and a self-consciousness that makes us second guess and doubt our movements instead of fully inhabiting this physical experience. When we bring more awareness to the dance of life, we experience with gratitude the pleasure of being present and alive. Awareness creates more fluidity and agility. I have put the directions for the walking practice at the end of this post, but first let’s look more specifically at the cause of most accidents: Being distracted, rushed or exhausted. Let’s look at each and apply Wise Action:
Destination Focus/Goal Oriented
We know where we are going and we will get there, but to arrive safely, refreshed and fully ready for anything, we need to stay present for the journey itself. Lost in Thought
We may be in the habit of getting a lot of thinking done when we are walking or driving. We put movement on automatic pilot. That is a danger to ourselves and others. And by using that time to think instead of be fully present in the experience of being alive in this moment, we miss out on so much! Devices
This more recent addition to the list of distractions has really been taking a toll in the emergency room. If you receive a call or a text, ignore it until you can stop in a safe place to attend to it. Everyone thinks they are the exception to the finding that we can’t safely do more than one thing at a time. The Wise Action is to do only one thing and do it wholeheartedly for the benefit of ourselves and all beings. Visual Delight
We may be enjoying being in the present moment, but we are putting too much focus on the sights around us, and not enough on the path in front of us. We can enjoy our surroundings with all our senses, but some percentage of our awareness needs to stay with the felt sense of moving through space and the relationship of our body to objects in our path. This also applies to driving if we are sight-seeing or getting caught up in thoughts about fellow drivers or interesting spectacles. Rushing
This is another health hazard. We know that when we feel rushed we can get reckless. Our judgment becomes impaired and our sense of connection and kindness are likely to get tossed out the window in our compelling need to get somewhere on time. While it is skillful to meet our social agreements to meet a certain place at a certain time, once it is clear that that is not going to happen, and once we are moving through space, either on foot or driving a potential death delivery system on the road, we need to let go of that urgency to get there, and just be mindful. It will take as long as it takes and no amount of rushing will help. Rushing may hurt or even kill someone! So slow down! Be present. Exhaustion
Accidents also happen when we push too hard, when we are determine to finish a project or get somewhere, and push through our body’s request for rest with determination. This is not Wise Effort. If we are in tune with our body, we take its cues seriously. We acknowledge thirst, hunger and the need to sit or lie down. Usually these needs are easily met and won’t necessarily take a lot of time. Perhaps the rest that’s needed is just a time out for ten or twenty minutes. Then the body is refreshed and better able to do what’s needed without all the attending frustration, expletives, shoddy results and physical danger. Wise Action Walking Meditation Practice
Start with standing meditation, coming fully present in the body, adjusting the body to be balanced.
Then start walking, sensing the movement of the limbs. Move as slowly as you need to in order to stay present. Then start moving your arms and stay present with the sense of the arms moving in space, the legs moving in space, the muscles contracting and extending. You can walk normally and be fully present in the body. Simply set your destination, then be present in the walking itself. If we can be present in physical movement we will have a much greater chance of arriving wherever we go in safety. And — bonus! — we’ll arrive full present to enjoy the experience of being there.

Positions – First Foundation of Mindfulness

Last class we focused on the breath as the first aspect of the Buddha’s Four Foundations of Mindfulness. This week we focus on the various positions we take for meditation. There are four positions the Buddha discussed: Sitting, walking, standing and lying down.

One of the simplest definitions of meditation we are given is ‘to sit and know you are sitting.’ This comes directly from the Satipattana, the Buddha’s instructions on direct path to realization.

As we begin our seated meditation practice, we close our eyes or lower our gaze and focus our awareness on the felt sense of the body. One of the first things we may notice is where our posture is not supportive. Odd isn’t it? Because just a few seconds before, with eyes open, settling in, we had thought our posture was perfectly comfortable. Whatever happened in those few seconds of transition is the crux of the practice. Just that quickly we went from the habitual nature of mind into awareness of the reality of this moment. We set the intention to notice what is the experience of this moment, beginning with the body, anchored in the senses.

Right away we see that we are not dealing with lofty concepts but immediate direct experience. Less than a minute into it and we already have an insight into the nature of mind with this demonstration of the difference between ordinary habitual patterned mind and this quality of noticing, of being fully conscious, present. This is awareness. This is mindfulness.

The challenge is to expand the foundation of mindfulness so that it’s not just a glimpse but the vantage point of our lives, what the Buddha called Wise View. At first it may feel a bit like dancing on the head of a pin, getting a brief glimpse of mindfulness and then losing it just that quickly. But with practice we develop the ability to stay present more and more of the time. The tiny head of that pin expands with dedicated practice into a more substantial platform of awareness. We feel more stable in our practice. With intention and practice being present is our default position. We can dance here and maintain our balance.

That moment of transition into sitting with a felt sense of the body in a seated posture may lead to physical adjustments to assure a posture that is supportive of a 30 – 40 minute sit. Those of my students who sit on my living room’s cushy white couch have access to firmer cushions to bring the spine erect and sometimes more support to bring the pelvis higher than the knees. Those who sit in chairs sometimes need a thin cushion under their feet. And those who sit on a bench or zafu make adjustments to suit their own bodies. The goal is to bring the spine erect, to let the sitz bones and the spine support the body completely so that the muscles can fully relax. I sometimes offer the image of a popsicle stick (spine) and the melting ice cream (muscles) as an aid to find position.

Why so much focus on posture?
One of my dear students flatly refused to have anything to do with this erect posture. She would lounge in the couch the way she would if she were coming over for a cozy chat over tea, which she is welcome to do any time. But during meditation we have an intention that is supported by a posture that is erect but relaxed, because the longer we sit, the more important it is that our position be sustainable. She would have none of that! She would recline way back in the corner of the couch, leaning to the side with her head back and her feet up on the ottoman. We had conversations about why this wasn’t a supportive posture, but I was not going to force the proper posture on her when she was so resistant.

I was reminded of a story my teacher Anna Douglas, one of the co-founders of Spirit Rock Meditation Center, told about her own experience with sitting. Anna began her exploration of Buddhism in the Zen tradition, and in that tradition the specifications for sitting posture are very clearly delineated. She rebelled at these strict instructions. ‘Why do I have to hold my hands just so, or align this with that?’ She struggled and fought with the strictness of this posture, as my student would certainly have done had I been more forceful in my instruction. But Anna stayed with it, and eventually discovered for herself that the instructions for the posture were not arbitrary directives just to get students to conform. The postural directions are based on an understanding of how the body can be at ease while sitting in stillness.

Anna came home to the posture, and I trusted that my student would eventually discover for herself why the posture matters. And she did! Eventually, over the course of months, she began to sit up, began to discover for herself that an erect, balanced, supported posture matters, that although at first it sounds uncomfortable, actually it is the way to maintain comfort throughout the meditation. Her personal journey to the upright position was ultimately a much more rewarding one than if I had forced something onto her. We learn best from our own experience.

All my other students over the years have taken me at my word when I tell them an upright posture is beneficial. But it’s important always to remember that when sharing the wisdom of the dharma, including this second aspect of the First Foundation of Mindfulness, that the teacher offers guidance but the journey is uniquely our own.

Advanced practitioners will find their posture more readily with a sense of homecoming, but it is still important to bring the attention to the felt sense of the experience, to anchor in awareness of physical sensation. To sit and know we are sitting.

Most of the time in a class we do a sitting practice. On retreats we alternate sitting with walking practice. Walking practice is always available to us, and can be incorporated into some portion of our regular exercise routine to enrich it and bring our awareness into the present moment, anchored in physical sensation. If done before more vigorous exercise, that awareness can help to ensure we are fully present, making it a much richer experience, and a safer one for our bodies.

Again the primary instruction is to walk and know that we are walking. At first this will probably mean that we need to slow down considerably to sense into the movement, to feel the pressure of the foot as it touches the ground, the muscles in the leg as it raises up and sets down, noticing all aspects of physical sensation, internal and external.

This is all new to most of us. When we are walking we are usually either lost in thought or we are focused on our destination. Perhaps we notice things that happen within our field of vision — a person, a vehicle, a bird — usually moving things we are biologically compelled to notice to assess whether it is safe to proceed. Our senses might register things that are pleasant or unpleasant — a pretty dress, a piece of litter, a favorite song, a jackhammer, the scent of jasmine or the stench of sewer smell, or a pain in a joint.

But we rarely if ever walk in a way that fully engages our sensory awareness, so that we feel the air on our skin, feel all our muscles in concert, feel fully present in our movement without regard to our destination. This is the gift of walking meditation.

Over the years attending retreats at Spirit Rock, it seemed that walking meditation was under-appreciated. Some retreatants would do it in a dedicated way, but many would do it half-heartedly, then stop and relax in the sunshine. Some would use those periods to return to their rooms to rest or take a hike in the hills. All okay, but the walking practice did get short shrift. Over the past few years there has been a burgeoning respect and appreciation for walking meditation. One teacher, Larry Yang, has really taken it on as his personal challenge to inspire this communal awakening to the rich and wondrous awareness experience of walking meditation. Now on retreats, the courtyard and the upper walking hall are full to the brim for the full period of walking meditation. The retreat experience is not just about sitting, and then time off from sitting. The retreat is a replete experience, where all aspects are done with awareness.

Students in my class are always welcome to do walking practice in the garden, and sometimes we all go out and do formal walking practice there. On our daylong retreats we always include dedicated periods of walking practice.

If there is a problem with the sitting practice, such as back problems or a tendency to fall asleep, it is recommended that the meditator practice standing. Again the practice is to stand and know that we are standing. We sense into the experience of standing. The posture is erect, the knees not locked, the feet at a balanced distance apart, and the tailbone is tucked slightly, just to assure the back isn’t over-arched. It should feel supportive and natural, not contrived. The eyes rest in a downward gaze. Closed eyes might cause balance problems.

Standing practice can be done instead of sitting practice, or one can add the idea of a standing practice to whenever we happen to be standing in line or waiting.

I am doing a presentation to a large group of public speakers, encouraging them to sense into their feet on the ground when they find their mind wandering. It is part 40 minute presentation on ‘Mindfulness tips for ease at the podium’ at a Toastmasters District Conference. The dharma has value in all aspects of life!

Lying Down
Most of us will do our final meditations in a lying down posture. Practice now! This is a valuable posture and if it is practiced less in formal training, it is only because of the tendency to fall asleep and space considerations in a group setting. Those of you who practice yoga are familiar with the final pose, savasana or corpse pose, which is a resting pose after a whole session of activity. The lying down meditation is more focused than the yoga pose and is less about resting and more about sensing in and being present with this position.

If neither sitting nor standing is possible due to illness or physical limitations, lying down is an excellent practice. It is not a second class practice but an intrinsic part of the Buddha’s teachings. You have no doubt seen statues of the Buddha lying down. He wasn’t ‘lying down on the job!’ He was being fully present in another totally valid posture. I emphasize this because sometimes when we are ill we might feel we can’t meditate. Not true!
If you feel you might fall asleep in this posture, then raise your knees and have your feet planted firmly on the floor. Remind yourself that you are not here to sleep, reset your intention to be present, and if you get drowsy raise your arms and lower them in a slow steady rhythm.

If you are trying to go to sleep, then get as comfortable as possible and focus on the breath, the rhythmic rise and fall of the belly, allowing it to soften, soften, soften…ah.

These four positions — sitting, walking, standing, lying down — are all appropriate for the practice of meditation. When we can carry awareness ‘off the cushion’ then we are able to more effectively carry it into our lives. As we do this, we bring awareness into all our activities, all our postures. We are fully awake and alive in this body. This is fully inhabiting the experience of this gift of life. Further, being present with the body, we make wiser decisions. When we feel the muscles as we exercise, we work them but don’t overwork them. We respond to the body’s need to move rather than mentally overriding the body’s own systems for self-maintenance. We can see how this applies in all areas of loving awareness of the body. Where are we not in sync with the body? That’s where we are not in the present moment, anchored into the felt sense of being alive in a human body.

I remember one time having dinner with friends at a restaurant and I was returning to the table from the restroom along a long aisle between tables where other diners were enjoying their meal. Though there was nothing particularly momentous about that moment, for some reason I felt more in my body than usual. I was fully present with the sensations of my body moving through space. I was fully present with the light and shadow, the color and texture of all that I could see. I was fully present with the sounds of talk and laughter, of platters and kitchen sounds; I was fully present with the smell of the food. And I was fully present with the feel of my feet on the ground, my leg muscles, the feel of my clothing on my skin. I felt fully incorporated, fully sensate, fully one with the experience just as it was, without any sense of destination.That moment was even more delicious than the meal because I was more fully present to enjoy it! There are no ‘ordinary’ moments, just ones in which we aren’t fully present.

So that’s what I wish for each of us: That we may come home to awareness of being here in each moment.

Day Long Retreat

Last Thursday, instead of a 90-minute class, I led a day-long silent retreat at the guest house and gardens of one of my students. In the development of a meditation practice, a retreat of any length is so helpful. Coming into a seated meditation six or more times in the course of a day really instills a sensory recognition of that ‘just right position’ — a posture that relies on the spine and the sitz bones to support us, rather than on the muscles.

My poetry teacher recently began class by having us ‘sit and do nothing.’ She said this wasn’t meditation, that we didn’t have to breathe or sit in a special way or anything. Afterwards she asked what we noticed and mentioned that she noticed her sensations much more. Those few minutes of ‘doing nothing’ were very helpful to the students.

She may have thought that those few minutes were not meditation, but in fact they were. Meditation at its most basic is sitting and knowing you are sitting. Meditation is not about altering the breath. Noticing the breath — resting our attention with the natural breath — can be a useful way to anchor into a neutral, dependable sensation, but actively changing the breath is not necessary, and not desirable for the main body of the meditation.

For a few-minutes meditation it doesn’t matter too much how you sit, though even for short periods I find it useful to adjust to a balanced, unrestricted seated posture. The postural recommendations for sitting arise out of compassion for meditators so that they don’t end up with back aches, cramps and strained muscles after sitting for long periods of time. It is not a strict aspect of the practice, but a kind one! I think the poetry teacher was trying to overcome any resistance some of the students might have had to the idea of doing meditation, but she gave them misinformation that only reinforced their misconceptions. Still, offering a little meditation period before creative effort was very wise of her and I hope she does it again as we all felt much freer to simply write.

If those few minutes made such an impact, imagine how deeply felt an extended retreat is! We have first and foremost the opportunity to really remember to again and again set our paired intentions to be present and compassionate with ourselves. With each cycle of practice on a retreat, it becomes easier and more inviting to do. The awareness becomes both stronger and more subtle.

The alternating of sitting and walking meditation throughout the day allows our bodies to balance, but it also gives most of us more walking meditation than we would otherwise do. We develop a pattern of really being present as we walk. Out in nature, we attune to its rhythms and slow down our minds. We have lots of sensation as our body moves through space. And quite possibly when we return to our regular daily walks, we are able to become more present as well.

Greater opportunity for inquiry makes the retreat more than just a practice or a time out. The repeated sits have the effect of stilling the pond of our being, so that the patterns of thought stand out in contrast. In the silence we can hear all that thinking more clearly, and hopefully see it more dispassionately, with loving curiosity. We can ask “Is this true? How do I know this is true?” for any repeating statement or belief that arises. The insights that arise out of this process can stay with us and guide us in our lives in a meaningful way.

The tension that arises in the body — shoulders working their way up towards our ears, jaws clenching, hands tightening into fists, etc. — are our body’s way of holding on to the past or the future. When we notice a thought, we can pause and notice the related tension that has risen up to hold it. It is easier and potentially more productive to focus on releasing the tension than to talk ourselves out of thinking. When the tension goes, so goes the thought. It may creep back in five minutes later, but as long as we are able to be present with our experience, we can compassionately release it again and again. Eventually the pattern will soften and release to a greater degree.

The biggest gift of a retreat is silence. Letting go of the spoken word and eye contact is like a perfect bubble of release from the responsibility of perfecting our personality and all the decisions about how to skillfully interact with others. Entering this sacred silence is a delicious time out. The most important responsibility we have on a retreat is to honor each other’s space and silence. Imagine there is a buffer around each person at the retreat and we don’t invade the buffer zone. We may sit right next to each other in meditation or at a dining table, etc., but the buffer is there. On a longer retreat, the buffer is palpable like a force field of awareness. I have talked about this in sharing my experience of longer retreats, how we take refuge in the Buddha, the dharma and the sangha. We simply divest of that interacting aspect of our daily lives and go inward, sensing our connection in a much deeper way. We experience the compassionate support of the sangha, the retreat community, in the shared experience of the practice.

On retreat most meditators sink right into the silence with gratitude, sometimes surprising themselves. It is often the most talkative among us who find such relief in silence. Other retreatants may struggle with remembering their vow. Giving up spoken words is not something we are usually asked to do, or perhaps we were asked to do it as children and being asked as adults brings on a certain rebelliousness. But silence is a great gift to ourselves and a sign of respect and caring to those in our sangha on the retreat.

Because the weather predictions for last Thursday included rain, I developed an alternative indoor activity for some of the walking periods. As it turned out we had sunny weather, but all but one of the meditators chose to participate in the alternative activity as well.

Since we have been discussing balance for over eight weeks, and most recently have been focusing on the Buddha’s River analogy, I brought collage materials for the meditators to create their own versions of the river and the shores. Of course, they were free to collage anything they wanted, not just the analogy, but most  of them actually did the river in one way or another.

My role was to provide supplies and to remind everyone to stay in the process and not think about the product. There was a fireplace in the meditation room and I told them to imagine that we would be burning our finished products at the end of the retreat. This was an attempt to free them from getting caught up in the fear-based ambition to make them ‘good.’ Of course, everyone took their pieces home at the end of the retreat. All the works were stunning, heartfelt and will most likely serve as valuable reminders of the insights that came forth in their making. Here is one student’s collage she generously agreed to share. You can see the river running diagonally and the two shores.

The students were instructed to pack themselves lunches and snacks that would be taste treat offerings. Since we all ate in different locations on the grounds, I don’t know what anyone else brought, but everyone said at the end of the retreat that they had thoroughly tasted and enjoyed their food in mindfulness that surprised them. One student said she was reminded of a Zen retreat she attended 30 years ago where she was told to masticate thoroughly. We talked about how valuable it is to notice these messages we come upon in our thoughts, a much more valuable skill than actually being able to chew 32 times before swallowing!

The day ended with an opportunity for each student to come out of silence and briefly share highlights and challenges they experienced during the day, if they wanted to. The sharing was rich and, because all the collagers were willing to show their work, quite beautiful.

I feel so fortunate to be able to share the gifts of meditation with my students, and with those who read this blog. May all beings be able to take time for themselves to unplug and dwell in sacred silence.

If you are not part of my class but would like to experience a retreat, there are many opportunities to do so nowadays, depending on where you live and how able you are to travel. I highly recommend Spirit Rock Meditation Center here in Marin County, CA, USA for any length of retreat. 

If you would like to put together a group of meditators or people who would like to learn to meditate, and if you have a place conducive for a day long retreat, feel free to contact me either to be a retreat leader or to offer guidance. (I work as always on a dana (donation) basis. If it includes travel it would be dana plus expenses.)

On this blog there are seven labels for ‘retreat.’ To find out more about the retreat experience check them out. To create your own retreat at home, consider following Sylvia Boostein’s book Don’t Just Do Something, Sit There.

If you have sat a day long, then it is quite reasonable to believe that you can sit a weekend or week long retreat. Don’t doubt your ability to practice. It is the naturally-arising activity of our nature!

Curiouser and curiouser

I have been reading Buddha’s Brain by Rick Hanson because it’s the book my class read in my absence and I want us literally to be on the same page.

On page 60 he writes that the three processes of being with whatever arises, working with the tendencies of mind to transform them, and taking refuge in the ground of being, are essential practices of the path of awakening.

He says that as we practice we encounter certain stages of growth. The first is acting out unskillfully without even being aware of it, not even seeing how we are causing suffering to ourselves and others.

The second is noticing our behavior, our words, our thoughts and how they are causing suffering, but not being able to do anything able to do anything about them.

The third is being able to transform these thoughts or feelings midstream, so that they don’t get acted out. They still cause us suffering to a more limited degree, but we have not put it out into the world.

And the fourth is a level of non-reactivity, where the situation doesn’t automatically set off reactions that cause suffering.

As meditators we may recognize these stages as part of our own experience, because as we begin to meditate we create enough spaciousness to start seeing our own thoughts and behavior.

Hanson says the most difficult stage is stage two, where we first notice our unskillfulness but feel helplessly caught up in it.

This initial period of inner awareness can be painful! It can even stop us from meditating because we don’t want to see the truth of things. We would rather be oblivious! Who could blame us?

This is the value of having some guidance, if just to have someone assure you that it’s normal to have this reaction, to have these thoughts, to feel the shock, shame and disappointment to discover our own innate unskillfulness.

If we do stay the course, continuing to meditate, we may discover a softening of our hearts and an increase of patience, so that we can hold our flawed selves with more compassion. Having opened to this experience, having survived the initial shock of discovery, we find a willingness to sit with whatever arises with less judgment and more curiosity. It becomes less personal. Reading Hanson’s book with its physical explanations for why we are the way we are increases our ability to get how impersonal it really is!

But still, what arises, if painful, if frightening, can be difficult. These difficult thoughts, emotions and sensations, we can consider as dragons at the gate of the inner temple of our own awakening. This image has helped me over the years to recognize and value the experience of sitting with difficulty as a vital part of the spiritual experience of accessing the spaciousness within.

Instead of an extended talk, for this class I asked the students to take some time in the garden in walking meditation or sitting in contemplation, giving themselves the silence, the time and the attention to notice whatever arises. If you did not attend the class or did but would like to repeat this on your own, try this in a garden or park or out in wild nature.

As you walk at a slow pace, bring full consciousness to physical sensations of the body: the foot rising and falling, the breath, the air on skin, the sights and sounds. Whatever arises in the mind is to be noted for its tonal quality, whether it’s an emotion or a thought stream, whether it’s a judgment, a memory, a plan, etc. Some times you may just be caught up in the flower or the lizard or the patterns the leaves make on the deck or the sound of the waterfall. At other times a stream of associative thoughts or emotions will ensue. Whatever arises, bring as much awareness to them as possible, being curious. Notice how the mind does what it does, as if it were a lizard pumping in the sun. Give it as much of that kind attention as possible.

Afterwards give yourself the gift of a little more time to reflect on and internalize this experience before returning to normal activity.