Welcome to this practice of listening to the living world,
Wherever you are in this moment.
The invitation is simple,
To arrive fully.
In the life that is already here.
Perhaps you are sitting outside.
With a cup of coffee or tea.
Feeling the morning air on your skin.
Perhaps you are near an open window.
Listening to the sounds of your neighborhood.
Or perhaps you are in the heart of a busy city,
Surrounded by buildings,
Traffic,
And movement.
Nature is never absent.
The sky is above us all.
The air moves around us all.
Life is unfolding everywhere.
The naturalist John Muir once wrote,
In every walk with nature,
One receives far more.
And he or she seeks.
Let those words permeate you.
For the next few minutes.
Perhaps.
There is nothing to see.
And nowhere to get to.
Simply allowing yourself to receive what this moment is already offering.
You may choose to keep your eyes open with a soft,
Relaxed gaze.
You may close your eyes if that feels supportive.
Perhaps your eyes move naturally.
Between open and closed as we practice together.
Allowing this time.
Your practice.
To unfold in whatever way serves you best.
So let's begin.
Noticing the simple fact that you are breathing.
Feeling that breath in the nostrils.
In the belly,
In the chest.
Feeling the body breathing itself.
Inhale arrives.
The exhale releases.
Allow the body to settle a little more.
With each exhale.
Allow your mind to quiet as it will.
Your heart to open.
And invite a sense of deep relaxation.
Through the face.
The shoulders,
The hands and the arms.
And then moving through the whole body.
Supported by the Earth.
Now begin to open your awareness to the world around you through sound.
Simply receiving these sounds.
No need to search for them or even name them.
Simply open.
Some are close.
Some may be distant.
A bird song.
If you're close by the kitchen,
The hum of a refrigerator.
Or voices in another room.
There'd be a little traffic in the distance.
The movement in the street.
The rustling of the trees,
The sensation of the wind.
No need to prefer one sound over another.
Simply hearing.
Simply noticing that awareness is spacious enough to hold all of it.
And if a sound captures your attention.
Or pulls you into thought,
Simply acknowledge it.
Sound.
Birdsong.
Wrestling.
And then softly.
Return to presence.
Now shifting your awareness.
To the sensation of touch.
The air touching the body.
And moving across your face.
Or your arms.
Warmth of sunlight.
Or the coolness of a cloudy day.
A touch of cloth against the skin.
Feel.
The cushion or the chair beneath you.
If you are outside.
How does the breeze feel moving across your hands or your cheeks?
If you were inside.
Feeling the stillness of the room.
Or the temperature near the window.
Receiving sensation as sensation.
And if your eyes have been closed,
You might open them to a soft gaze.
Allowing the eyes to become part of the practice.
Resting in a soft gaze.
And without.
Too much focus on any one thing.
Simply seeing colors.
Bites.
Shadows or movement.
The sight of the clouds drifting across the sky.
Or leaves moving in the breeze.
Branches swaying.
Rain falling.
Or if it happens to be winter.
Snow resting quietly on the earth knowing that whatever the season The beauty of nature is always available.
And if your view.
Includes buildings or rooftops,
Sidewalks or streets.
Let these two belong.
Belong to the life that expresses in so many ways,
So many forms?
Can we see without grasping or pulling in or pushing away?
Can we see without labeling?
And we see.
Awareness of ascent.
Fresh hair.
Ours.
Rain.
A pine tree.
Your home.
Perhaps the fragrance?
Of coffee or tea.
Or maybe it's the absence of scent.
Notice.
And if you're enjoying.
A beverage,
A coffee,
Or a tea.
Noticing the taste.
The warmth or the coolness.
The flavor.
Is moving into gratitude for this simple miracle of tasting.
Pausing moments that we so quickly want to move through,
Pausing to receive them.
And if you live in a place where nature feels distant.
Dividing Imagination.
To picture the sky above where you live,
The clouds.
The same wind that moves through forests and mountains.
Moving.
Between city streets or apartment buildings.
Nearby a tree.
Rowing through concrete a bird A small patch of grass.
Nature.
Always present in some way.
Adapting persisting,
Thriving.
Like you.
Leaning into a sense of belonging.
To all that surrounds us.
Leaning into the living world.
We are a part of the living world.
So now resting in this place of open awareness.
Taking in everything.
Pushing away nothing.
Sounds.
Sensation.
Thoughts?
All of it.
Simply sitting in the middle of this living moment.
Awake.
And here.
As we begin to bring our practice to a close.
Simply being.
Not doing.
That's driving.
Not fixing.
Alive for this one breath in.
And out.
And then another.
And another.
In the words of Mary Oliver.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Allowing our practice to begin with the first two.
To pay attention.
And to be astonished by ordinary things.
The birds,
The wind,
The clouds,
The warmth.
The coolness.
And here you sit.
Or if at all.
And as it feels right,
Take one deep breath.
Deep breath,
Perhaps the deepest breath.
Taken all day.
And then as you let that breath out.
Blinking the eyes open if they've been closed.
And taking in your surroundings.
My wish for you is that you carry this sense of presence into the rest of your day.
As ordinary moments reveal their quiet beauty.
And may you remember that nature is never.
Far away.
Thank you for practicing.
May your day be filled with goodness.
