As we close the year that has, for most of us, challenged to every aspect of how we live our lives, I have been reflecting again on the ground. The winter ground to be precise. There is something about earth in winter that I find quite beautiful – the layers of leaf fallen from long – gone autumn, damp and rich smelling, or crisped by frost. In rural and city gardens alike, in woods and in parks, the robin hopefully swooping to the ground with clipped call and bob of tail and head. The bright green spikes of new year shoots pushing through black soil. The damp chill rising from the ground as dusk falls. There seems to be a silence under all things, the silence of the earth that holds us all, steadying us, and giving our feet the certainty they love.
And then, there’s ground-ing. A verb that I notice has come into more common usage in these recent months when there have been many generous offerings of holistic practices to support us in these times. What is grounding, or finding our ground? In mindfulness, in our meditation practice, directing our attention down into our feet, as we sit, walk, and lie down is an intentional choice to connect to the earth, giving the weight of our bodies to gravity, purposefully feeling the floor, the ground, the earth meeting the soles of our feet. A place of anchor, and return, when our minds are busy, full, distracted, overwhelmed. Sensing the body fully through the direct contact with ground can feel so beautifully simple, as our chattering ‘to do’ list or ‘what if’ or ‘if only’ list can be held in a different, more spacious awareness. So – over these last days of December, perhaps on this solstice night when planets Jupiter and Saturn will align to create bright star not seen for hundreds of years, do this: Take yourself out for a short walk and let your feet tread this earth, simply allowing the sensations of the contact, to be felt from the inside out; sensing the toes, soles, heels, instep and the arch, appreciating this simple movement that steadies us and reminds us we are home.
In Theme 1 of our 3 -week practice session, The Ground and Body we will be practising paying attention in the present moment, on purpose and non-judgementally. We will learn how to ground ourselves in the present moment by steadying attention in the anchors of the body. We will initially direct our attention to the feet, seat and hands, and tune into the sensations of breathing. This is a foundational practice and will be the point of return for the basis of all practice. Click here to book your place, The course starts on Monday, January 11th
Here is a poem written by Ajahn Sucitto, who led a retreat I recently attended. During the course of the week, there were many examples drawn from the natural world that illustrated our human experiences, and are powerful metaphors throughout his poetry. One day, on discussing the difficulties that can arise in meditation practice, his suggestion was short and simple – “If you are finding it difficult to meditate, go out into nature and let nature do the meditation for you” December 2020
Winter Dawn by Ajahn Sucitto
Not yet
light hasn’t climbed
the thread
dangling from the last guiding star
no sound no frost no sun
no edge to presence
and yet
like spring tides like breathing
like the love you can’t hold
such a dawn exposes roots
that twist and draw
a sky-tangled tree the blue-green blush
and each slippery horizon
from an open ground
made quietly fruitful
by every time’s returning.
Words long to wrap around it
but not yet.
There’s a criminality in black and white.
And all that drains
into the shining
as she comes dressed in pearly grey
like the field in which we do our work:
clearing fences and rutted tracks
and whatever gets broken by summer.
Mindfulness for Everyday Living 