Walking Scales

Walking to the river is concrete.

There is no pun intended,

but it is appreciated.

The practice of walking is designed

to make my thinking more concrete,

more solid, more grounded.

I walk, step by step,

on mostly hard surfaces,

often concrete, the surfaces

slightly rough, but mostly level,

so that my mind is free to focus

on what I see,

the colors and textures,

nature, buildings, river and sky,

the faces,

and the leather of women’s boots,

to see, and let it register,

and then consider what this material world

means within the tangled ways of my mind.

I do not wish to smooth out all my thinking,

I want it to become clear and concrete.

Of course, the swinging of my legs,

the stride, the pace, helps set a beat.

I find I think differently when I walk,

a kind of foot-mind coordination occurs.

And a destination is important.

Knowing the direction also frees the mind

to focus on the task.

These are simple things,

not meant to be prescriptive,

even for myself, only to say

that every action and every observation and  every thought

has a corresponding reaction in the mind.

Which is why our minds are so jumbled and full to begin with.

And consciously choosing some kinds of actions and some particular thoughts

may prove to be unjumbling.

But it is not some zen-like concentration I seek,

some total emptying my mind of all thought,

of every distraction or abstraction.

I endeavor to bring my self, my being, to a place of attention

so that I walk at the leading edge of that balance between

what is outside my mind and what is within.

I attempt to walk with my mind forward at the farthest extension of my ocular nerve,

my mind not churning well within myself through the clutter of past experiences and thoughts

nor plotting well beyond myself anticipating the future,

but seeing and appreciating what is passing before me at a walking – or pausing - pace.

I do not find myself poised in a zone of perfect awareness for long,

but there are moments when my mind is in tune with what I see,

and a sense of satisfaction with a bit of the world and my own mind pervades my being.

But I continue to practice.

And so I walk,

to sort out my thoughts,

by trying to focus,

not on principles or abstractions,

but on what is concrete,

being physically present and bodily aware,

as my mind plays through its scales.

I walked my fingers up and down the keyboard

when I was younger.

Now I walk my feet from my home to the Kaw River Bridge

and back.

And then, after practice, I would play.

Now, it’s all play.

I appreciate the discipline more.