I spent the weekend in the Adirondack mountains of New York. Instead of sitting on the living room floor of my apartment as I usually do, I meditated on the crest of a snowy hill in a small grove of evergreen trees. The silence of nature is so different than the silence of the city—even during the most quiet moments in my apartment I can still hear helicopters, distant sirens, and my neighbors clomping up and down the stairwell. But up in the mountains, the world was so quiet I thought I could actually hear the snow melting around me. Each breath I took was fresh and cool. Sitting outside reminded me of a paragraph from Mark Coleman's piece "A Breath of Fresh Air" from a past issue of Tricycle:
"Nature teaches us simplicity and contentment, because in its presence we realize we need very little to be happy. Since we are part of the animal kingdom, our senses are naturally more alive in the outdoors. The rustle of leaves or the rapid flight of birds could indicate the presence of a mountain lion or bear. Hiking in places where we are not the only predator helps us understand that all of life is intimately interwoven and that we are a part of that web. Meditation training, on the other hand, provides the tools to steady the mind so we can be open to receive the jewels of nature. Through meditation we learn how to work skillfully with thoughts and emotional patterns that interfere with simply being able to rest wherever we are, with full presence."
I cannot always sit in a grove of snow covered trees, but for those few days my practice was invigorated by the simplicity and solitude of the natural world. I remembered how important it is to break away from habitual practices and spend time in a new environment. Having been reminded, as Coleman said, of how little I need to be happy, I returned to the city with a calm and steady mind--ready to work skillfully with the thoughts and behaviors the prevent me from being fully present in the world...and ready for the last week of meditation month!
Comments
Sounds of Silence
Appreciated reading your account just now of an Adirondacks sit in a snowy grove; and about the boost Nature gives to our practice. I could sense the deep contentment felt as you experienced the quiet of forest and snow. The other day I did a sit based on hearing at my forest cabin in western Montana. As I took my place on the cushion in front of the loft altar, I was reminded of recent postings from people sitting near an open window and hearing: cars, trucks, buses, sirens, dogs, helicopters. As I settled in and adjusted my posture, my senses were alert to the pervasive stillness. I found myself straining to hear something, anything. Maybe a pine squirrel scolding, or a Stellar's jay. After all this was to be a hearing meditation. Finally I chose to let go of the sounds not there. I thanked my good fortune for being able to reflect upon the sounds of silence.
So you in the Adirondacks and I in the Bitterroots were able to contemplate and connect to our natural world as a meaningful Ybackdrop for meditation.
Thanks for your post!
Thanks for your post. I loved its imagery and gentle reminder to recognize our relationship to the natural world around us. As you might know, there is considerable research that demonstrates a correlation between well-being and "exposure" to nature (even in the form of office plants!). The growing field of eco-psychology has been exploring this relationship further. There is also a psychological theory called "Attention Restoration Theory" that posits a rejuvenating effect on attention and awareness simply by being in nature. The theory suggests that being in nature does not "demand" attention, unlike being in an urban environment. In cities, we can't help but hear the blaring siren of a passing ambulance, for example. In contrast, the snowy hill in your weekend meditation was not vying for your attention like a grumpy New Yorker (e.g., "Hey! Look at me! I'm melting over here!"). Fortunately, we can make an effort to recognize nature mindfully in the city too. We can smell the flowers at the bodega or watch for signs of the coming spring. Nature is here in the city, too. We just need to notice it.
Thanks again and best wishes!
Jonathan Kaplan