“The usefulness of a cup lies in its emptiness.” — Zen proverb
It’s more important than ever today to find rest. Not mere sleep — which is important for its restorative value to the body — but dedicated time set aside to unwind the mind, time apportioned for emptying the cup. Of course, the first thought to come to mind is the idea of meditation, especially the sit down kind practiced by Buddhists or other religious devotees. But I’m talking instead about activity or non-activity in the presence of nature, rather than any formal or religious practice to “achieve” peace or harmony. I know of no better place to find reprieve from anxious, constantly-reactive mental activity than to be amongst the wonders of nature.
After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, love and so on — have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear — What remains? Nature remains; to bring out from their torpid recesses, the affinities of a man or woman with the open air, the trees, fields, the changes of the seasons — the sun by day, and the stars of heaven by night.” — Walt Whitman, Specimen Days
Modern life is always so busily packed, always on, always adding, always accumulating such that our mind’s capacity becomes so completely filled that there’s literally no space left for anything else. Furthermore, studies have confirmed time and again, that we repeat most of the same thoughts (and its corresponding stresses) throughout most of the day. So not only is the mind full, it’s full of mostly junk (and why I have little tolerance for advertising or any other forms of propaganda). It’s little wonder why we struggle so mightily to change our patterns of undesirable behaviour even if we desperately desire to do so, as rehearsal solidifies old habits. We are, after all, what we repeatedly think and do.
In Zen, it’s taught that without emptying the mind periodically, there’s no room to cultivate — either a new idea or even a new experience — because when we’re full, we’ll interpret any foreign stimuli as merely a different form of the same old data. When we’re at our limits we can’t be bothered intellectually or emotionally to challenge our biases and expand our understanding. Nor will we have the biological energy to do so. This is very dangerous for anyone hoping to see the world with greater clarity, create or live life with freshness. It kills our ability to grow and activates the ugly descend towards ignorance, close-mindedness and indifference.
“The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference.” — Elie Wiesel, Writer & Nobel Laureate
The only remedy to this dilemma is letting go in the presence of nature. Giving way to the sights and sounds of our natural surroundings, to the smell and taste of the air, to feel the pressure of our bodies against the earth or the texture of a leaf in our hands opens us up. The process grounds us yet at the same time make us feel alive again by getting us out of our own heads. We begin to fall away from the illusion of ego and escape the dualistic and ever-more mechanical life that takes hold of most of us most of the time. And when we let go of our thoughts — allowing them to pass thru as they please without hanging on to them — we begin that meditative cleansing process Zen masters expound — the journey towards liberation. It doesn’t matter whether we sit down in a crossed-legged position or merely take part in the simple act of walking because healing processes need not be formal. Emptying one’s cup isn’t food, it’s medicine. To take the time to restore our mental and spiritual capacities is neither a luxury that can wait nor something we can ignore. We take it when we need it. And in times like now, we need it more than ever.
As it is, we are merely bolting our lives — gulping down undigested experiences as fast as we can stuff them in — because our awareness of our own existence is so superficial and narrow that nothing seems to us more boring than simple being.” — Alan Watts, The Book
As for myself, I, like many others with the capacity or experience to do so, have a regular sustained meditative practice — I do, in fact, sit down in Zazen, and spend a portion of my mornings (and sometimes evenings as well) entranced in the act of focused breathing. I usually do this outside so as to be with nature. I also don’t do it to be “better” or even to relax but rather because it is quieting. In doing this “non-activity” meditators like myself become “goal-less” and succumb to the present. Any other kind of approach or mindset would render the activity pointless and ineffective. The idea is to liberate the mind from its tight grasp on the noise that keeps the cup full. And that can’t be done by force but only by seemingly monotonous repetitious actions such as breathing. Again, this can be accomplished just sitting or walking slowly by a tree, the waterfront or anywhere natural, even a tiny garden. Meditation is a form of quiet, still attentiveness and NOT a formulaic path towards enlightenment or escape.
Indeed, to garden — even merely to be in a garden — is nothing less than a triumph of resistance against the merciless race of modern life, so compulsively focused on productivity at the cost of creativity, of lucidity, of sanity.” — Maria Popova, Brain Pickings
Nature is healing and refreshing. It’s awesome existence, be it rain or shine, has the power to arrest you whenever you’re in its presence (outside) no matter what might be on your mind at the time. It’s why a beautiful day must be claimed. Just the mere acting of walking along a grassy patch does wonders; the fresh crisp air rushing into the lungs while the alternating waves of shifting grass titillate the eyes reminding us how fantastic it is to notice such things as when we were young, when we were still looking and truly experiencing things with a sense of wonder. It reminds us of the transience of things. It evokes humility and gratitude.
We are constantly being shaped by seemingly irrelevant stimuli, subliminal information, and internal forces we don’t know a thing about.” — Robert Sapolsky, Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst
So, when we feel mentally overwhelmed or fatigued, we know it’s a call to set aside time to cleanse our minds. Quiet, solitary, restorative moments close to a real natural environment heals and brings back balance. Without a clear mind, art can not emerge with clarity and neither can life.
“Art is a harmony parallel with nature. — Paul Cézanne, Painter