I am writing this in my car parked in front of my own house, waiting for the torrents of rain to ease off a bit.
I feel such gratitude for the opportunity to have had time for a 25 minute private Walking with Awareness session before the rain started. While walking in the rain can, itself, be quite pleasurable, it is not something I enjoy when the rain is of the intensity, quantity and speed being released toward the earth as we are having right now.
My gratitude is for the opportunity to have had 25 minutes to myself on the trail to practice choosing to put my focus on listening, noticing and observing rather than on thinking. The only other person on the Forum Nature trail this morning ran by me, yelling over her shoulder "I don't trust those clouds." I thought to myself, "what an odd thing to say. I trust those clouds completely. I trust that they are going to release a large amount of rain on us in the near future; however, I hope that they may wait to do so until I have had time to make my way around this loop." Thankfully for me my hope was more accurate than her distrust, as I had plenty of time for a lovely mindful walk!
Forum Nature area is currently full of dynamic colors, textures and shapes. There are so many things to see, hear and smell; however, I will name only few: As I walked I passed by the darkest purples of the iron weed, the rough prickly strongly-erect oval pods of the thistle, the languid wide open face of what I believe to be a mallow while smelling that unique smell of dust and impending rain.
Forum Nature area is also a wonderful place to explore the landscape within oneself. Like on the outside there are many many things to feel and experience within our bodies as we walk this level, graveled trail. To name a few: I felt the strong supportive pressure of the path rolling under the width of the heel, ball joints and the pads of my big-to-little toes of each foot as I made my way around the first loop. Allowing the sensation of this rhythmic rocking to sequence up my legs, up through my pelvic floor and torso, into the very base of my skull, I felt myself moving with ease and enjoyment..
At one point, about half way around I realized that I'd left my awareness of the path, the foliage and the cadence of my own walk for the less defined and much less stable territory of my thoughts. Looping and swirling, floating and tugging, the thoughts being created by my mind were pulling me out of my feet, out of my body and out of my earlier deep full breath. Untethered from my body and now far away from the splendor of the moment I was walking through places that no longer or do not yet exist. In the moment that I noticed I was in my thoughts I stopped and gave thanks that I had not fallen in a hole or wandered farther down the path than I had originally planned (both scenarios have happened to me in the past!) Once I noticed I stopped moving forward, which allowed me to become aware that my breath had gotten shallow and my unmindful walking pattern was causing a slight discomfort in my left knee. More gratitude for noticing!
In this moment of recognizing a transition from walking without to walking with awareness, I gave myself permission to pause. Pausing to really feel my feet supporting me, my pelvic floor and my spine as I bent my neck slightly backward to let my eyes look upward toward the clouds. Pausing to feel my breath filling my torso, widening into my underarms on each side, bulging into my sacrum in the lower part of my Upper Back body, awakening the support of my core as I allowed my front body to fill with the energy of the rolling grey and white clouds, even while I felt my feet firmly in touch with the Earth.
In this pause I could feel the presence of the fullness of the air. I could feel the promise of rain made by the clouds getting closer to fruition and the frisson of possible thunder and lightning in the mix.
With this knowledge that it was time to move myself to a safer place I pushed off through my Left toes with confidence that the ground and my pelvis would support me as I practiced the art of walking, allowing my Lower Right body to reach and pull and then repeat the sequence of yield and push. Repeating and repeating, pushing my weight ahead and then pulling my weight forward, in balance: the Art of Walking. Trusting that my Lower Body would support all of me (my Upper body, all my thoughts and all my tissues and sensations) as all of me moved from the glorious moment of pausing and breathing to the safety of my car, I hoped that I could make it before the clouds unleashed the rain.
And I did.