Wooded sanctuary

My journey into the world of meditation is just as gradual and winding as my journey into yoga. When I lack the discipline to pure self-practice I seek out opportunities to either go to class or create a situation that "forces" me to follow through with a practice session.

Life is still moving at 300 mph (down from 500 a week or so ago). The difference this week is that the fall foliage is peaking here, and foliage waits for no one, not even stressed out women doing their best to keep their heads above water. So if I am to enjoy the beauty of fall (I happen to love this time of year), then I have to get myself out of the house; I have to get outdoors.

Enough said, this morning I took my second walk of the week. Huge gusts of wind greeted me as I wandered towards my wooded path by the stream. What I love about walking meditations is that I can't give up in the middle of a session. If I walk to my special tree, then I have to walk back now, don't I? And once I crawl into the shelter of the towering trees, it's like I've entered my own sensual sanctuary. The blustery wind can be heard in the swaying treetops, but like a huge comforter the trees offer shelter from the cold. The lazy stream stretches itself from around the bend. And then I reach "my" tree, the tallest one in the woods. So tall that it leans slightly forward, sort of as a giant would in order to greet someone much shorter than himself.

I stop in front of the gnarly trunk and place my hands on the rough, uneven bark. I move my feet back and bend at my hips until my trunk is parallel with the ground. After aligning my thighs, pelvis, abdomen, trunk, and head, I stand here in a modified downward dog as I lose myself in a wonderful sense of presence.

It only lasts for seconds, but when it's done, I am a new person.