One cold winter afternoon,
I went walking.
The faint,
Vague drone of the highway faded as I walked deeper into the woods.
Pines and hemlocks,
Wide-spreading maples,
All their branches filled with snow,
Milkweed and goldenrod,
All the wild weeds also bent with snowy burdens.
The transition from an urban space to a natural one is often self-conscious.
The I is trying to experience.
It takes a while for the I to recognize it is thinking about experiencing,
Not experiencing.
Eventually,
There's attention to breathing,
And finally,
Just breathing,
Just walking,
Just hearing wind and bird calls,
Just smelling the pines and the snow.
To live in society,
We need language.
But nothing needs to be named.
There are no names,
It all just is.
As Robert Powers,
Author,
Says in his novel The Overstory,
There are no individuals,
There aren't even separate species.
Everything in the forest is the forest.
Eventually,
There were thoughts about returning to the,
Quote,
Real world,
Though there is no such place.
No presence here,
No reality over there.
The world,
Of course,
Exists,
But I slip back into believing the duality,
Believing that is all that exists.
I believe I am leaving the woods and driving back to a place called home that's separate from this place,
Separate from me.
So that as I drive away,
I long to return and suffer because I think I am separate from all of it.
So let's let go of thinking and do a short non-duality meditation.
Wherever you are,
Pause.
Drop the sense of I or me.
Bring attention to hearing and to sound.
Notice sounds,
But do not name them.
Names will arise,
But let go of them and return to just listening.
And now we'll be present together for 30 seconds in that meditation.
Attention.
Attend to sound as they are.
And thank you.
Thank you for paying attention.
Be well.
