Meditation, Mountains, Monks, and More.

Move the body, still the mind. 

Part one: Meditation 

I think a lot, and I talk even more. I find it nearly impossible to clear my head. The ex boyfriend of mine once foolishly suggested I try meditating. I knew that wouldn’t work. To actively attempt to sit alone with no distractions and clear my head is impossible for me. In fact, this is when my mind is loudest.  

There are only two places where I know I can clear my mind. Two places where I can focus on nothing but the sensory experience of the place around me. Those places are where my mind can reset itself to calm.

The first is the shower. While some people find baths relaxing, I cannot get behind the idea. It just seems like a wet place to do this so called “meditation process”. What am I supposed to do in the bathtub besides stare at my feet? I just don’t get it. Sitting in a bowl of hot water while it slowly gets colder and my fingers get prunier just is not pleasant to me.

Showers are different. Showers are symbolic. They give you a clean start, literally.To stand in the shower with the warm water massaging my scalp is a total sensory experience. To be warmed up on damp days when I am cold to the bone is revitalizing. To be cooled down on summer nights and wash away the stickiness of the day is refreshing. 

A shower is always how I start off before I get all dolled up. It allows me to start with a clean slate, freshly shaven legs, silky clean hair, exfoliated skin, and a blank palate for makeup. After an excursion such as a date night, three days of backpacking or anything in between, the shower is what I look forward to most, it is where I will wash away the mascara and the blush, the mud and the dirt, and the sweat and the blood.

Some people measure their days from when they wake up until when their heads hit the pillow. I record my time counting down until my next shower. Collecting traces of where I have been. I can record my day by the dirt on my shins from a game of softball, the grease in my hair from an all-nighter in the library, or the sweat on my brow from a night of dancing. Whatever comes from the day, the shower brings a time to reflect, be alone, and create a clean slate.

 By focusing only on myself in an atmosphere where there is no one to judge, no opinion to worry about but my own, and nothing to feel but the hot water running down my back, the shower is the perfect sensory only, head clearing, body cleansing experience. 

Part 2: Mountains 

The second place is a little different. In nature is where I find my almost parallel, sensory only, head clearing experience. However, instead of it being a body cleansing experience, it is usually the exact opposite.

Have you ever sat and really thought about why people go to the beach? Why they choose to spend their time in that natural setting? 

People go to the beach to feel the heat of the sun kissing their skin (or in my case sizzling it). They go to the beach to appreciate the texture of the sand slide beneath their feet, grit between fingers, clump in their baiting suits, gather on their towels, and stick to their snacks. They go to taste the salt on their lips and to breath in the hot humid air. They float in the ocean and listen to the water crash against the shore.  

On the beach people walk, they play sports, they read, they swim, they nap, they do  so many things that they can do at home. Why do they do them at the beach? Why do they choose to be in a nature setting? For the sensory, for the sunsets, for the sight of a seashell and the slime of the seaweed. People go to the beach to observe the world in its untouched form. 

People go into nature to feel at peace. They go to get back in touch with their most primal form. The beach is not the only place for this experience; there are the woods, the fields, the lakes, the mountains and so much more. These places offer revitalizing and healing fresh air, relaxing sounds, and the purest sights. 

Part three: Monks

From a young age I remember being very opposed to cities. They were dirty, smelly, gray, concrete, busy, crowded, and people were homeless. As I got older I began to see the positive aspects that came with cities such as diversity, activities, history, culture, museums, and opportunities. I grew up on the East Coast of the U.S. and lived within a very accessible distance of three major cities. I always enjoyed going and visiting them whether it was for dinner or for the weekend, but I also loved that I could go home.  When I decided to live in Paris for four months I somehow did not take into account my dislike for cities. 

After about two weeks in Paris I was antsy. In my life I had never spent so much consecutive time in a concrete world. I needed to get out and away from the concrete and the cigarettes. Every time walked past fruit and veggie market I found myself inhaling deeply, to smell something fresh and something natural. So I begged Becca to flee the city for the weekend with me. 

After the ordeal it took us to get here (See Becca's blog for explanation) , we were able to see a beautiful lake and to hike. Up and up and up the muddy mountain we went until we found a clearing with a little stone house. We must have spent an hour 

lounging around the lawn and looking out across the lake towards the snow covered mountains of Switzerland. We stretched out and lifted our shirts feeling the warm sun on our pale faces and bellies. 

We sat in silence and listened to the sounds so different from the city: the wind through the trees instead of the whoosh of the metro tunnel, the wild birds chirping from their nests, instead of the pigeons picking from the garbage, and the sound of the bumblebees buzzing around the daisies.

Becca said to me, “I now understand why monks live up in the mountains: to be farther from the manmade world, and closer to nature, and therefore peace. Here they can meditate and see much more clearly.” In that moment, I realized the ex boyfriend’s foolish suggestion was maybe not so foolish, and that maybe my preconceived notion of meditation was wrong. I could meditate and I had already been doing it for years.  I have been finding peace while being outdoors and clearing my head with views of perfection and calm in nature. A place where the world is not corrupt and ecosystems live in perfect balances. 

My Nana has an impressive collection of books, one of which includes a wonderful book of hand colored photographs and discusses the relationship that people have with the beach. Growing up we read this one many times together and often still reference it when visiting the seashore. The author lists the ways in which people entertain themselves at the beach, he says something along the lines of “some come to lay in the sun, some come to eat ice cream, some come to swim, some go timidly into the water, some dive right in”. 

When I am in nature I am reminded of the ending to this story.  Whether I am looking at the mountains of Switzerland covered in snow or on the beach watching the tide pull, I find that my mind has been cleared and I imagine the last page of that book. There is a photograph of a man sitting in the sand looking out at the waves, just enjoying the natural beauty that exists in the world.  I am reminded of the very last line in the book, “And some come just to watch the greatest show on earth.”

                                                                        Part four: More

 Just as quickly as the rest of life passes by the weekend came to an end. We rode past almost nothing but farm fields for nearly four hours until we were about twenty minutes from Paris when the buildings began to appear and the views of nature were gone. Our high speed train arrived into Gare Lyon station and when I got off the train I searched for Becca in the mass crowds of people. We headed for the metro as more and more people surrounded us. We passed a small string orchestra playing by the entrance to line one, the oldest line in Paris. When the train pulled up there were even more people, it was packed like the New York Subway. Our sweet little town of Annecy quickly became a far off land in my mind as I rode the elevator up to my apartment. I dreamed of the long, hot, cleansing, meditative shower I would take after a long damp, dreary, day of train travel.