Course homework today was to go for a walk, but not a power walk. A slow walk where you pay attention to your senses, not your driving mind. Oh boy, I thought. This is going to suck. I'm no good at ambling.
At first it was painful. I had to physically hold myself back. But that made the muscles in my torso contract differently. All of a sudden my shoulder blades dropped. My breath had a place to go.
I started with the obvious choice of sight. What would have been the forest blurring by as I power walked became individual trees with personalities and scars.
Tones and hues stood out. The thistles were full of fluff.
But still it felt so odd, holding myself back. When people came walking towards me, I was tempted to speed up, thinking I must look like an idiot, barely moving along. I started making deals with myself. Surely I wasn't going to slow walk for the whole walk? But then I'd take a breath and realize how good it felt. Why would I ever speed up?
My favourite sound over the white noise of rushing river was the echo of my footsteps beneath the little plank bridge.
I felt the curve of every root and rock beneath my feet. I ran my hand through the horsetail and then decided to veer off the beaten path to go through the whole patch. Bush-whacking through the trees, branches in my face.
A few times I noticed I had sped up, distracted by my thoughts picking up into disappointment, frustration and wondering about the future. As soon as I slowed back down, so did my thoughts. Turns out it was nothing that actually needed thinking about. I went back to noticing how many colours an autumn leaf could hold.
I still couldn't smell anything, so I started breathing deeper. It took about ten good breaths before a whole new world opened up. The forest became an olfactory mosaic. With every breath I could differentiate more. The difference between mossy ground and rock. Individual plants began to stand out - knapweed and some kind of really sweet smelling bush. I could differentiate between trees - cedar, pine and birch. Sunshine smelled different than shade. I could turn my head and smell the change from one side to the other.
I tasted the sweet joy of having a new experience while doing the same old same old.
I have walked that path hundreds of times, maybe even a thousand. Today was a whole new reality. Today was me and my feminine body, receiving the gifts of the forest. Today was me in the present moment.
Thank you, Patty Alfonso, for inspiration.
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