Years ago, I would attend the Yitang Temple in Kelowna. One of the weekly practices was the walking meditation. The concentration and focus upon the earth meeting the foot was the goal in order to dismiss trivial thoughts. Toe pressure, shift, heel leading created a rhythm. And then there would be the pause. As the practitioners wound snake like between the cushions under the giant golden Buddha, all would pause simultaneously. Toe down, touching the other foot was the action of the entire group in the same moment. We disrupted the action of disrupting our thoughts.
Winter pause
Today, I was thinking about how this day, this date December 24th is much like that pause. We have walked about seeking, moving striving in the convulsing pathways of our lives. But there are pauses. There are days when the stores are shut. Going to a door and pulling on it only to find the way in is locked reinforces that this is a time where the automatic pattern is broken.
It is on this day acceptable to turn inward, to stay home, to rest the body, to rediscover the joy of the family. We float between our goals and release the necessity to strive, to reach, to struggle.
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Birds decorate the trees
Most of my days before Christmas, most of my December 24th experiences are lost. Nothing happened. I might have worked on a puzzle with my children. I might have picked up a book only to lay it down on my belly with the spine tented up as I sank into a nap that had been coming on for weeks. I might have looked out the window and dismissed the out of doors as too white, too twilight, too cold, demanding too much effort and turned to the seasonal blanket absolution. Whatever I had done which was indulgent, indolent, unwise could be erased by pulling the afghan around me and nodding off as I heard my children playing close by.
There are times when we touch one toe to the floor and stop our progression forward. The smothering heat of the end of August; the week around Christmas invite us to simply surrender.
There is no place to go; there is no achievement expected. All at once, in a cultural exhale, we pause. Merry Christmas.