Come and join me for a few minutes in a practice that I call tasting the water.
Settle wherever you are.
Let your eyes close if that feels right or comfortable.
Just soften your gaze.
Take a breath.
And let whatever you were doing.
Rest for a moment.
There's nowhere else you need to be.
Take another breath.
A little slower this time.
And feel the weight of your body.
Where it's resting.
Your feet on the floor,
Your hands wherever they've come to rest.
Now choose one sensation.
That's already here.
The air on your face,
The pressure of the chair beneath you.
The temperature of your own hands.
Whichever one you notice first,
That's the right one.
Stay with it.
For a moment.
Not the words.
The sensation itself.
Notice what your mind does next.
It might begin to describe.
The sensation.
It might tell you.
This is pleasant.
Or My hands are colder than they should be.
I'm not certain that I'm doing this right.
Some commentary.
Might arrive.
In the mind.
That's what our minds do.
See if you can catch the moment.
When it happens.
The moment.
You stop feeling your hands.
And start thinking about your hands.
It happens fast.
And once you've experienced it a few times,
It becomes easier to spot this shift.
When you notice it.
You don't need to push the thoughts away.
Just come back to the sensation.
The war.
The weight.
The feel of the air.
Boom.
This is the whole practice.
No amount of thinking will tell you what water is like.
You have to taste it for yourself.
To know if it's warm or cold.
Before you go.
Choose one moment.
In the day ahead.
Drinking your coffee,
Walking out to the car.
Washing your hands.
When that moment comes.
See if you can be in it.
For three breaths.
Before the describing begins.
And now,
When you feel ready.
Gently return.
To the rest of your day.