Sunday, February 13, 2011
It wasn't far and it wasn't fast, but I felt my lungs expanding, my legs burning, and a gentle calm settling over my mind. I concentrated on my breathing, letting thoughts come and go, not following any of them. The next thing I knew I was face-planted into the dirt having tripped over a hidden root. So much for moving meditation. Nonetheless, the fall was a not so gentle reminder to stay in the present moment, nature's (God's?) very own kyôsaku.
I got up, covered with dirt, blood, and probably a bit of horse dung and moved on; ego bruised, but that's a good thing right now. At the end of the trail I was breathless, in pain, and covered with nature. I felt like a warrior again.