Homeostasis in walking

Published on 2022-01-18 by Michael Stanton

Sick with Covid.

Finally meditating with some regularity.

Second session today.

Golden truth. Breath. Sound.

The riding atop and within.

Mastery.

Balance within the etheric layers.

In the waves of the sounding sun...

It was a year ago I first saw the Spiritual Eye, in yoni mudra khumbuka. I stopped that practice because I want to see it always, without special holding of breath. Today was a hint that I might get there. With the sound of so-ham, both intoned and listened to, blue light surrounded by yellow...zoomed in, occasionally forgotten, then rediscovered when the sound is picked up again. It was there. It is there.

Walking is not about movement.

It is about stillness at a more refined level.

The walker is still. The earth moves beneath him.

It is about the quest for homeostasis at greater intensity.

Just as a helicopter's wings look still when they rotate quickly, the walker is meditating.

In China, at the time when Dogen brought Zen to Japan, the monks walked to find truth. They moved over the land in order to "see" what does not move. Each monestary was a monument of joy to the discovery gained on the roads between. The golden light falls on the walker who moves not.

I will use my land. In cars as a child, falling asleep. Awakening again. Peering out. The eternal New Mexican landscape. The endless day. I turned to my toys, just as now I turn to my jobs. I abstracted, then returned to the land. This very land is the place where I will find no more escape.

The shuttle will leave me at the monument, perhaps with one or two others. We will move through the land like a dream half-remembered. It does not matter if we were real. It only matters that I knew this was required in order to understand. And that the note is held until close of day.

This day. This life.. It ends when I understand it. And should I falter, the land itself will sing. Because I did give it one thing. I gave it what I had. I have loved it into being, and it will raise me from my deaths until I can carry it always within me.

As the note that never ceases.