One more step. This time, I'll get it. When I put my foot on the soft, wet ground, I will be there, present, connected. I will be one. I will do my best. But there are so many things around. I am unable to listen to my five senses at the same time, all together, each on its own. My mind, my sixth sense, is also there and wants to play. My ego is not far off and will take any opportunity to participate.
Should I close my eyes? Or leave them open? What can I do better to connect? I doubt myself. Will I be able? I get nervous. My foot is already on the ground and, again, the moment is gone. I know I was not there at the time, that I have lost it. Where was it? Where did it have to be? I can't know.
Next time I put my foot down, I'll be there. I pledge. I will slow the time. I will go as slow as my body allows me.
I have done this practice thousands of times. I love it. It is like a meditation. Walking. Step. By. Step. Here and now. After years of intense practice, I still feel that I have to discover, to learn, to forget. I have so much to forget. Something deep inside me tells me that this is because I want to feel rather than just … Feel.
Today I will do it differently. I kindly ask my ego and analytical mind to step aside, sit down for a while to rest, and leave me alone, just for a moment. I don't want to feel anymore. I want to dream, to play, to imagine.
I close my eyes. Actually, I don't even know anymore. I look up and see the trees that are thrown towards the Sky, to play with the clouds. I look around and everything changed in an instant. Trees playing with birds, with clouds. Leaves dancing up and down, in whirlwinds. Magic. Pure magic. I was no longer in me, in my mind, in my body. I don't remember what I was doing, but my feet connected to the ground, like roots, were part of it all. I was also playing, but I didn't know. I was not aware. I was just playing. I was becoming a tree, one of them. I was becoming One.
And there, in the distance, She was crying. A being of light in the dark. I knew this scene, I had lived it thousands of times, since I was a child, in my dreams. Those images that built my own history and remain there, unconscious, to appear when they consider it appropriate. And they come back, over and over again, until I fix it. Until I understand what is so important for me to know. These have been my dreams, for years. I think I have never dared to listen to that voice that spoke to me, that instinct, that something that was present. Deep inside me, I knew the answer. I have never paid much attention to my instincts, it did not suit my rational mind. Too risky. But today I listened to it. And it is the same as always, that pushes me again and again towards the same thing, towards me, towards Her.
The Earth is crying. Not because we hurt Her. She was there long before us, and She will be there long after. But She can't understand why we want to leave. That was so perfect. Things change, always. She knows that. She's lived with Impermanence since the first day.
But not that way. Not that way. And She asks me, in a whisper, to do my best. All that I can do.
Here and now.