Amongst the trees

“Go to the forest, to the foot of a tree” the Buddha

I lay on the slope upon the shiny ivy and snappy twigs. I was under a fuchsia bush showing the last of its lipstick red cups to the October air. The fuchsia itself was beneath an ordinary maple that was just about keeping its leaves green. It was my bed for an hour or so this afternoon.

There was little bird song apart from a raven or two. No one passed by and I could hear no human voices. Occasionally the wind stirred to rustle the top leaves. But none of us; human, animal or plant could be bothered to stir any more than that. All was mostly still and all was mostly quiet. I had harboured ideas of meditating there, but I was too tired. There was little else to do, so I just rested. It felt the the absolutely right thing to do with my time.

And then nothing of note occurred for the next hour or so.

I started to head back and, after I had found the rhythm with my walking, I noticed it. The outside silence had seeped under my skin. The stillness had merged into my flesh. I felt as if I was walking among it all. Once in my body the stillness and silence became space. And the space extended both throughout me and all around me. Edges were no longer so clear. The ideas of what was me and not me felt less certain for a second.

And whilst all this was fleeting, it is also true that it all arose from merely sitting still amongst the trees. There was no formula, no spell, no recipe. I did nothing and nothing happened. I lay down feeling too sleepy and uncomfortable to formally meditate. I followed no instructions and can share none myself. All I know is that being still and quiet amongst trees shifted my universe for a short while.