Hello and welcome.
This is my favourite of the four practices,
And I hope by the end of it you'll understand why.
It's the one that changes something,
Quietly,
And how you move through the world.
As always,
These sessions are intentionally designed without music,
And instead feature soft nature sounds in the background.
However,
If you are out and about in nature,
Maybe you turn off noise cancellation on your headphones and let those sounds around you in.
If you haven't already,
Start walking.
Let your body do what it already knows how to do.
Feel the ground beneath you.
Feel the air around you.
Breathe.
Let's take about a minute to settle before we begin.
Something I hear often,
From clients,
From people I meet at workshops or on yoga classes,
Even from the version of myself that existed before this current one,
Is this feeling of being alone in it.
Whatever it is,
The pressure,
The overwhelm,
The sense that everyone else is somehow managing better,
Coping better,
Holding it together more elegantly.
It's one of the most painful aspects of a stressed life,
And it's also,
I gently suggest,
One of the least accurate.
Today's practice challenges that feeling.
Not with reassurances or positive affirmations,
But with attention.
We're going to look at what's genuinely around you,
Right now,
In this very moment.
Here's what I've come to believe.
That feeling of disconnection is partly a failure of attention.
And attention,
As it turns out,
Is something we can practice.
Look around you slowly,
No rush,
And find something alive.
It might be a tree,
A pigeon doing its slightly indignant walk across the pavement,
A dog on a lead,
A person moving in the other direction,
A determined patch of moss on a wall.
Anything that is living.
Rest your attention there for a moment.
That thing exists,
Right now,
In the same moment as you.
It's going about its life entirely unconcerned with your inbox,
Your deadlines,
Or your inner monologue.
It is simply here,
Being alive.
Now find another,
And another.
Start to let the living world expand in your awareness.
And maybe what felt like a gray,
Or anonymous,
Or unremarkable stretch of pavement begins to fill up.
With birds navigating by instinct refined over millions of years.
With trees making their slow,
Patient push toward light.
With people,
Each carrying their own invisible,
Complex,
Interior world.
If there are people around you,
You could try this.
Choose one person,
Just one.
And for a brief moment,
Really see them.
Not to stare,
Or to assess,
But just to register that they exist.
That they woke up this morning with something on their mind.
That they are navigating their very own life with the same mix of effort,
And uncertainty,
And hope that you are.
That they are not in existence because you are here right now,
But that they have their very own reality.
We all know this in theory,
Of course,
But we rarely truly feel it.
You are surrounded,
At all times,
By people with entire inner lives.
That can feel overwhelming,
Or,
If you allow it,
It can feel like the most ordinary,
Profound kind of companionship.
All of us moving through the same world,
Trying to figure it out.
Now find something non-human.
A tree,
Perhaps.
Do you have any sense of how old it might be?
Trees on our streets or in our forests can be decades old,
Sometimes well over a century.
That tree has stood through everything.
Every global crisis,
Every political upheaval,
Every perfectly ordinary Tuesday that felt like the end of the world.
There's something kind of stabilizing about that,
If you let it be a support for you.
If you can hear the world around you,
Listen for a bird.
See if you can locate where the sound is coming from.
Birds are singing right now,
At this exact moment,
Regardless of the news cycle,
Regardless of your notifications,
Regardless of anything at all.
They're singing just because moment calls for it.
Keep paying attention to these things around you as you continue to walk for the next couple of minutes.
As you continue to walk,
Notice that you too are part of this world,
This ecosystem.
Belonging doesn't require anyone to know your name.
It doesn't even require you to be seen or acknowledged or included.
You belong to this world simply by being in it,
By walking through it,
By breathing the same air,
Living under the same sky,
Sharing the same improbable moment in time as everything else that is alive right now.
You are woven into this,
Not on the outside looking in,
But firmly part of the fabric.
You are not alone in this human experience.
In these last moments of the practice,
Just walk and let yourself be part of the scene rather than a spectator of it.
One living thing amongst many.
As we close,
Take a breath and let your gaze soften and widen.
Take in everything around you,
Near and far,
All at once.
This is your world.
You live here and this world is maybe surprisingly full of life.
For the rest of your walk,
There's nothing to maintain or practice.
But if disconnection creeps in,
If that particular loneliness arrives,
Look for something alive near you.
A bird,
A tree,
A stranger going about their day.
Let it remind you of what is actually true.
That you are always in company and that you belong here.
Walk well and thank you for joining me on these journeys.
