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    DG by Paramita

    Walking meditation in the Temple garden always wakes me up a bit. Not in the literal sense, but in the Spiritual sense. Immersion in the freshness and raw energy of Nature. The sights, sounds and feelings that offer themselves, generously, in place of discursive thought.

    Today the birdsong was particularly striking. Like an excited and cheerful summons to practice. An audible celebration of life, beauty and the power of coming together.

    My mood fluctuated in the usual way, shifting seamlessly between contemplative joy, and existential worry – in this instance, how my lifelong insomnia might have contributed to the brokenness in my brain. And then, as I came back into my body, noticing the spring buds on the young trees and remembering the many years of meditation, which must surely have forged new and healthy neural pathways. The natural world is very good at showing us, and reminding us of balance.

    More loud cars and the sound of life, noisily trundling along in the background, despite our quietness and the protective bubble of this sacred space.

    Somehow, this reminds me of how unseasonably warm it is in mid-February. Some of my usual winter clothing layers have been shed, a good month earlier than usual. The relative comfort, no longer really anomalous, and accompanied by an ominous sense of consequence.

    Again, back, out of my head and into the walking; tentative footsteps around windy paths. Ivy intertwined with galvanised metal, creeping around, over and underneath, as if to claim it, and naturalise it. The contrast between the organic and the industrial becoming lost in a seemingly unlikely embrace.

    The dance between idle thinking and pure doing, and the distinction between them, is measured by the frequency of my steps and the rhythm of my corresponding breaths. I can’t think while I’m really walking, and I can’t really walk, while I’m thinking!

    The dance goes on!

    Namo Amida Bu!

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