Sunday morning I made something of a decision to try and live the coming seven days experientially more through my body, less through my mind. Maybe I could put it like this — feel more and think less. Which points in the right direction, but is not truly accurate. It seems, to this ancient mind, there’s a lot of thinking involved with feelings. I think this, so I feel that. Which isn’t the heart of my decision.
Here’s a practical example. I’m on my walk this morning, and within the act of walking – being at least a minor-leaguer in the art of multi-tasking – there’s the physical one foot up, one foot down, quads and shins and toes and forever achy lower back and neck, of course eyes and ears and nose – all that’s physical. And, concurrently, why are most Red Sox fans so crazy negative about this season, and am I seriously considering going back to work, and how come it rains so much in San Diego? Obviously, that’s the thinking. And – get this> When I’m walking and thinking, at least I’m walking. When I’m doing most of my other usual stuff – sitting here at the keyboard, in the recliner with coffee and a book, at a Starbucks outside table (when it ain’t raining), there’s very little physical involved – though, these two index fingers kind of kick butt regards moving.
My decision, if you’ve hung in this long, is when I’m walking to bring my primary consciousness to how it feels walking on the tar in the middle of the road, and on the concrete sidewalk, and all the birds I’m hearing and following the arc of hummingbirds with these eyes, and bringing and keeping my attention to and within this body of mine, and experience the day physically. Of course, lots of the time I realize I’m off and out of the body and into my head. Even realizing that involves thinking.
Oh, what’s a young boy to do? Work in progress.