Sit Spots

I recently spent 10 days in California, many of them at a retreat to learn to better track human nervous systems, mine and others. Our training was held on sacred land that had ancient trees and had been lived on by Indigenous people without major disturbance for thousands of years. The health, vitality and receptivity of this land was part of our support system.

The first morning of retreat, we were invited to find a place on the land that felt just right to us, our Sit Spot for the week, where we began each day’s training. Once in our spot, we looked in all directions, settled ourselves, went through our outer senses one by one (exteroception), and then, if it felt comfortable, our inner senses (interoception) and tracked our nervous systems as best we could. This is something of my first morning’s experience, followed by my last day.

Sit Spot Poem

Followed the call to the edge of the creek,

Carved in curves down the hillside.

Cleansing sound of the water, tumbling over rocks,

my body’s sound of home.

The softness of undisturbed, myceliated ground under me,

I took my seat.

Florescent spring green ferns among the ancient trees,

Two near me, looking like wings of a bird about to lift off in flight.

Light filtering down through the leaves with bright sky above.

Three dimensional sounds of deep nature held me—birdsong, water, trees rustling, little noises of life here and there,

Smell of earth, ripe with spring,

Cold air touching my face and the almost-warm-enough, weighted softness of many layers.

As I lay down I was held by Earth; no longer needing to hold on.

Yet hold on I did.

I had appointments with this week, questions, so many questions.

You would not believe how many questions I brought,

Or,

maybe you could.

The questions felt busy inside; agitation resisting gravity.

Wanting to know what could not yet be known,

So innocent, this longing.

The weight and silence of this place pulled me down and in,

settling slowly, but not completely.

Questions still emerging.

Then, aware that I was not alone,

Not at all,

I opened my eyes and saw so many others with me,

I asked the trees and all of nature,

“What will happen, what should we do?”

Such presence, such wisdom, such lightness, and also depth,

They said,

“We do not know what will happen,

And whatever that is,

We are in this together.”

Final Sit Spot, This One in Muir Woods

Again, called to a creek, this time with giant Redwood trees at the edge

and in all directions,

I first sat and then lay down.

Again, held by dear Mother Earth

,

She stroked my hair endlessly

And I dropped easily into the sweetest, most welcoming lap.

“I had questions,” I said to her.

“And now I am handing them to you.

I surrender that which cannot yet be known.

I surrender my mind to the felt experience of my body

And the truth of now.

I surrender my life to your service and my callings.”

One hand connected to the living stump of the tree next to me

and the Pulse of Life flowed through my body,

Filling me up.

This time I was held without holding on—a completion.

I start a new Meditation Course this evening at 5:00p ET, Meditation, Listening and Sound, starting May 14, full description and registration are at the link above. I look forward to being with you for this—as usual it’s always better when we are together.

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