I want to tell you about how I relax and also get things done.

Last week I found myself saying, ‘I wish I could get away for a couple of weeks!’ A couple of weeks off when I’m ready, might be ideal –but sometimes, for a million good reasons, now really isn’t the time. And yet, those million good reasons have started to feel heavy… life has become stressful… I really need the break.

Instinctively, I begin to reach for what it is I need. I sink into the feeling of the need to relax. I focus on the exact feeling of what it’s like to get away from it all: that tranquil, spacious, no-pressure, spontaneous, at-ease feeling.

And then, all of a sudden, I find myself remembering that I can have this right now! It happens as I say to myself’ yes, that’s what I need–but…’ and the next moment the ‘yes… but’ flips, and becomes ‘but… yes!': and I’m back on permanent vacation.

And there are just two things I need to do, to stay on vacation and also do my day:

First, I thin out what I put on my plan for the day–mostly just my appointments stay (and I’m always careful not to overbook those).
I’ll also keep one or two other things that have to do with something I care about. What I’m doing is making lots of room for responding spontaneously, in the moment.

Second, about the things that could turn into a ‘gotta’ on my list, I ask myself–‘what’s a relaxing way to handle this?’

Answering that question this morning, I found myself walking to the bank with my deposits.

On the way there I enjoyed the sunshine and fresh air after last night’s rain; as I made the deposit I chatted with the teller who also likes to walk in the morning; and on the way back, I sank deep into feeling my body in motion.

And right now, I’m feeling how much I like the people whose checks I deposited. There’s a glow around the whole experience–
instead of a job, it’s turned into a nourishing, relaxing, high point of the day.

This past week, I was dealing with a difficult, time-consuming situation.  By the time I could step back a little I was drained of energy.  My body was tense and tight.  I needed a restorative walk.

I just got back from that walk feeling balanced, relaxed, and at peace.  I’d like to share with you part of what I did that made it so effective.

First, I took my walk in the morning.

A tough week takes its toll on body rhythms.  Fortunately, these rhythms are easy to re-set if you know how.  Our bodies are programmed to respond to morning light to keep our rhythms in sync with the natural world.  This re-rhythming is augmented by the rhythmic movement of walking.

I began my walk this morning by paying attention to my breathing and posture.  For the first five or ten minutes I breathed in for four steps, then out for eight steps.  I loosened my shoulders, and let them circle back and drop into their natural, relaxed back-and-down position.

These breathing and posture changes ‘re-set’ my autonomic nervous system, helping the sympathetic system let down and supporting the calm quiet of the parasympathetic system.  I felt myself settling back into the feeling of being in ordinary time with a regular routine.

Next I began to rest in sensory experience.  I focused first on just that most basic of senses, the sense of touch.  I gave all my attention to the sensation of each foot connecting with the earth just-so.  Then I noticed other physical sensations of walking, like the feeling of my hips in motion.  I felt the breeze, and the temperature of the air.

Once I was grounded in my own movement, I added other senses. I started with smell, which is nearly as primal as touch.  This led naturally to the sense of sight, as the scent of late-season flowers invited me to find where they were blooming.

When I turned for home, I deepened my relaxation a little further.  I softened the muscles around my eyes, especially at my temples.  And I let my shoulders and arms go very loose and light, playing ‘empty coat sleeves’.  I let them swing freely, however they were moved by the movement of walking.

As I reached home, I noticed how easy it was to climb the stairs.  Time it took? —about 20 minutes.

My simple recipe, summarized:

• walk in the morning light
• use breathing and posture to ‘talk’ to the autonomic nervous system
• move deep into sensory exploration
• soften the eyes
• empty the shoulders

If you try my recipe, don’t feel like you need to add all the ingredients at first.  Just pick two or three that sound especially good to start with.  Over time you can add the others.

It would be a pleasure to read about your experiences with this way of walking, if you’d like to share them below:

On my walk just now, I was stopped in my tracks by a bush densely covered with creamy blossoms, barely tinted rosy-gold.  They were shaped something like trumpet flowers but more blunt.  The leaves were a very light sage green.

I wondered, ‘is this a member of the sage family?’  I rubbed a leaf, smelled my fingers: no smell at all.  And the leaves didn’t really seem very sage-like other than the color.

Where did I first learn to rub a leaf like that?  Maybe from my mother?  I don’t know; the beginnings are lost—but it’s an act I’ve repeated many many times.

Deeper, is this bent towards the names of things.  I remember how intense the drive towards naming was in my sons, just learning to talk: “Da?!!” they would demand, as they pointed to the unknown.

This need to know the names of things and all about them has echoes among the chimpanzees.  The older ones know which trees are fruiting when, and take the others straight there.  There must be a drive among the young ones to register the repeating patterns of things, because they will be back to these trees, down the generations.

And we will register that there is such a thing as ‘going back to those trees’ among chimpanzees; and we will watch them do it, gathering our own chimpanzee-knowing ‘fruit’ down our generations.

When the world is in upheaval, it’s not enough to ‘embrace change’.  We need patterns, continuity, fruit we can count on.  Then we are free to savor the uniqueness of this moment, without any falseness of attitude.  We need both change and also the regular beat, before life feels like music.

And the awareness of distinctions, ‘like trumpet flowers but more blunt’ makes it possible to see more: this moment becomes richer as an individual note within the beat.

I am an adventurer when it comes to meditation.  It’s not that I’ll try anything and everything — but I do like to play.

Walking meditation is the most basic kind for me.  When I need to come home again, walking meditation is how I get there.

Often I’ll synchronize my breath and my steps.  So you can imagine my ‘hello!’ when I saw a book called Breathwalk at Half Price Books.

A lot of it was old-shoe familiar.  But there was one new thing… he incorporated a mantra in the rhythm of the walking and breathing.

You, dear reader, (having read the title of this post, after all) can probably see this coming… but I didn’t.  I tried his 4-note mantra in rhythm with my steps.  I tried it, in fact, for several weeks—not all the time, but just enough.

This morning I decided I wanted just the freshness of the morning and my empty mind.  I took a step.  The mantra stepped out with me.  I pushed it away.  It wouldn’t go.

I decided to just walk, no meditation.  The mantra paid no attention.  It was stuck in my mind like a song, entrained to my steps.  What to do?

Finally, I did what any self-respecting person would do when they’ve got a song stuck in their head–I thought of another one:

“I stuck my head in a little skunk’s hole,
and the little skunk said, ‘why bless my soul,
take it out, take it out, remove it!’

I stuck my head in a little skunk’s hole,
and the little skunk said, ‘why bless my soul,
take it out, take it out, remove it!’

I removed it… too late!”

That removed it.