Walking Hand in Hand with TCC

Lethargy is powerful. So powerful it has made a big dent in my couch. It has produced miles of dusty cobwebs in my home and mind. One day I said enough, crawled out of the dent, and went to my favorite place to walk. It had been months and I used to go three to five times a week. There was no epiphany, no self-recrimination, no “it’s about time” self-talk. I just heard a calling without judgement, just a matter-of-fact feeling to walk.

As I left the street and entered the path there was a fleeting moment of, “Do I really want to do this, two miles sounds like work.” Hesitancy vanished as the woods took me in; I was engulfed in familiar sounds and colors. Comfort washed through me and dispelled doubt. It was like visiting an old friend. Footsteps softly landed on the soil; sun flitted through the trees and warmed my back. Breathing became my pace companion, and marveling at the many shades of green and brown, my mind relaxed with my body.

I often use this trail to think. Few people walk it, there are no buildings, no distractions. I can walk and talk out loud and use hand movements to express my thinking. I began to see the parallels of this walk with T’ai Chi Chih practice. Perhaps our TCC practice has slipped into lethargy. We just can’t make ourselves do it even though we know it makes us feel good in many ways. It may be a few days, weeks, or months without visiting our familiar friend. But when we finally hear the call and respond, let it be with a heart not of guilt or self-recrimination but with a sense of wonder of what will happen. Don’t think about the full form (the two miles); feel the feet rolling from front to back, repetition to repetition, movement to movement — just as my footfalls continued to the quarter mile marker then to the half mile marker and so on.

At the one-mile marker, I perform a quirky ritual. With my left palm I slap the wooden marker. My walk doesn’t feel complete without it. (My sister finds this humorous when we walk together.) On the return trail I feel lighter, as if I’ve already completed my walk, reached my goal. Returning is like dessert. The work is done, the main course is complete, I feel satisfied. The return trip is a bit more down than up, which makes it more enjoyable. Because the view is different, I am not repeating what I’d just done. The sun shines on the front of me now and flashes between the leaves. It’s a different feeling. Starting the walk, I focused on the one-mile marker. Returning, my myopic view broadened.

At the one-mile marker, I reflected on parallels with the practice. Would this be the start of the “Taffies” which I consider about halfway through TCC? Upon consideration it felt like the end of the practice. Slapping the mile marker is like Cosmic Consciousness Pose, a completion no matter how many movements we do. The movements may be finished but the practice lingers. We notice the world in a different light, just as the return trail looks different. After our practice we feel lighter, we enjoy where we are at the moment, we may see more clearly. Our thinking may not be so clouded with a myopic view.

Walking back, I am hopeful to see a wild turkey, bobcat, deer, coyote. When I don’t it is okay as I know they will grace me with a glimpse in the future, as they have in the past. Again, what are the parallels with our TCC practice? Sometimes our practice is blessed with an experience. We have an aha moment — sometimes minor, sometimes big, sometimes a wild turkey, sometimes a bobcat. It is an extra treat received from our practice.

Then the walk is over, I am back on the street. All that is special has not vanished, it is right behind me anytime I want. I just have to walk into it. It is the same for our practice. It is always there, we just have to step gently into it, one weight shift at a time. And when the practice is over, or the walk, we bask in the feeling, refreshed for our efforts.