The longest journey is the journey inward.
Dag Hammarskjold, 1905-1961
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We are somewhat “nuts” about “the body.” We want to look good. We like to stay young in our appearance. We train as if to say: “No mortality for me!” But what is our motivation in these states? How do we attend to our body?
Does it ever occur to us that to engage the body is to engage the Spirit?
Do we ever imagine that something as simple as walking can be contemplative? I think not, but it is.
A daily slow mindful walk induces quiet inside and opens us to the world outside and heightens our senses, particularly the ability to see and to hear, to listen and receive.
Receive? Yes, to receive life in the moment and each moment is a journal entry of all that has come before, is now, and will forever be. Yes, we are a small link in a very long chain, a word in a long book, a breath in an endless flow of breaths.
When we walk we hear our breathing, our heart beat. The Spirit.
We are in a quiet walk in the Spirit and there is most likely nothing else we do in a busy day that will bring us this experience.
A quiet walk immerses you in the world in its widest context – in what is seen and unseen, what is sound and silence. In a quiet walk we arrive where we always have been, we meet ourselves again – or maybe for the first time. In a quiet walk, what is temporal becomes what is eternal. In a quiet walk we are in the world as it is now, always has been, and always will be. In a quiet walk there is no separation that alienates us. In a quiet walk there is reverence, what is sacred.
In a quiet walk listen, be a blank slate ready to receive, let the ideas and feelings emerge, think overtly of nothing in particular for you cannot hear while you are thinking just as you cannot receive when your hands are full.