On my walk today I decided to take it easy and not try to be particularly present or connected. If I’d get lost in thought so be it. And so I wandered up Bald Mountain, enjoying the outdoors and happily pondering away.
Unsurprisingly, there came that moment when I thought it was a waste of time to walk through the woods with presence spotty and my thoughts scattered all over. So I came to standing wanting to be present in the forest, with the life surrounding me. Seeing became predominant for a moment but then immediately the “wanting to see” became stronger than the actual experience. And with this came frustration and that familiar sense of failure. Not being able to be fully present I was overcome with feelings of separation and longing for oneness.
I was intrigued. How does this happen? I decide to come into the present moment and be with what is around me, and immediately I’m not good enough and get caught in that spiral of failure.
This was when I became aware of breathing, breathing with no self involved. Simply the knowing of it. Soon I realized that with breathing instead of thinking as the companion of seeing the trees, there was no conflict.
I played with that a bit and this is what I noticed: when I let thinking lead the way or closely accompany seeing, then the discursive mind will habitually want to take the experience apart. It will see some of the beauty and admire it, but it will likely be preoccupied with imperfections such as a lack of complete presence, followed by longing and thoughts of separation.
But when breathing is the companion of seeing, then there is no space for pondering the experience. There is simply “knowing”: bodily sensation, breathing, seeing trees and, yes, thinking is there too but not running the show.
Exploring some more, it became clear that it didn’t need to be breathing, it could be any other sensory experience, but that having such a “companion”, a simple stream of sensations as a guard of sorts, I was protected from falling into the trap of judging the experience and comparing it with some presently unattainable ideal.
And more than that: once grounded such – in what in Buddhist terms is called the first foundation of mindfulness, abiding in sensory awareness – I can become aware of thinking, emotions, distress, without being consumed by them. They may not go away but they can be equals among the many colors and shapes on the ever-changing canvas of moment to moment experience, rather than foreign objects which need to be removed.
hooray for you, stefan! i am so happy for you in the mountains. and i am so grateful for this guide of everyday experience–in the mountains, in the desert, in the kitchen.
Thank you, Ann. High desert or ocean, bathrooms even, Julian suggests. Good company can be found everywhere. Miss you, Stefan
Yes, I like this Stefan. I will say that I feel that sensory awareness of the breath is of a higher order. The breath has doors in it. I don’t have enough time to express this more clearly, but I wanted to put in my two cents. Thank you for sharing!!
Dear Claudia, Thank you for your comment. I am happy to hear that you like what I wrote. I am very interested in your feedback but I’m not sure I understand it. Would you be able to take the time to say a bit more? I know, these things are not easy to talk about but worthwhile to try. This blog is an attempt to put words to experience that I find very challenging to talk about. It is alway a bit of a stutter. But that is how we learn to speak…