Arriving to the Present

I’ve been reading How to Walk by Thich Nhat Hanh. I saw the book at my acupuncturist’s office and asked to borrow it. I said I would bring it back with my next visit in two weeks. That was a few months ago. It’s a lovely little book of only 117 pages. Yet, there’s so much depth in its simplicity.

I love walking — not just for exercise but to explore. I often pause to take a picture of a plant, animal or anything I find curious. Once, on a lunchtime walk, I noticed trees that appeared to be infected with a virus. Instead of bark, there were white, green and brown splotchy patches that resembled military fatigues. Later, a work colleague informed me that I had discovered the Sycamore tree. On another day, I encountered a gaggle of Canadian geese. I marveled at their relaxed demeanor as they wobbled along. It was odd to watch them walk on the sidewalk, as if in formation. There’s always something new to experience when I walk. I’m exploring and communing with nature. I assumed that Hanh’s book would delve further into the spiritual aspects of walking in our natural environment. Instead, How to Walk is about walking to bring us back to the present.

One of the concepts that grabbed me early in the book is Hanh’s teaching on Arriving. It’s not the arriving that we have come to know. This is not about wealth, fame, career, social status or relationships. It’s about arriving back to the present moment which is our true home. Hanh says,

We know that our final destination is the cemetery. Why are we in a hurry to get there? Why not step in the direction of life, which is in the present moment?

I wonder how different life would be if we were able to see each step that we took (physically and metaphorically) as arriving back to the present moment. When it comes to walking, Hanh says that we mostly walk because we have to, in order to get to the next thing:

But, we can enjoy each step if we were to feel the sensation of our feet touching the ground. Instead of thinking of this or that, just be aware of the contact between your foot and the ground.

I’ve tried walking in this way. I felt the sensation of the ground on the bottom of my feet and the weight of my body as I moved. My pace became my own and I slowed down. It was strange to feel my body relax against the earth instead of stomping along against it.

Most of the frustration I’ve experienced in life is because of my desire, rush or inability to get to the next thing. Maybe this is part of the experience of being human. We see it in babies and young children. My mother loves to tell me about my first full day of school as a first grader. I came home and declared “Momma, those teachers don’t know nothin’…I still can’t read!” In our human experience, we want to quickly see the completion of things; the product. Then, we want to be off to the next thing.

I know I have the ability to see everything that I do as arriving. Even when I write, I don’t have to wait to feel accomplished or satisfied with The End. The formation of each word, even a letter is an arrival. I can enjoy the curve of each letter, the space it takes up on the page and even the sound I hear in my head when these letters form a word.

Hanh shows us how to use walking meditation to bring us back to the present. It can also be applied to the rest of our lives. It only requires practice.