The past couple of weeks I’ve been out and about, traveling to Tennessee and North Carolina, and then hosting my sister and niece here in Boston, with a day trip to the beach in Maine.
Nothing extraordinary happened, really; I visited friends, went to a meditation retreat, and did some touristing with my sister and niece.
But, in fact I had extraordinary pleasure from what my senses were conveying to me, once I slowed down to really experience them.
What do I mean here? Lemme explain with examples:
Water: My friend Jennie and I went to Townsend, TN and dipped our feet in the Little River, just inside the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It’s a shallow rushing river, great for tubing, dipping, and hanging out in and beside.
The feeling of rushing water on my legs, moving along, on top of and between the rocks, hearing the sounds of the water– so satisfying, cleansing, refreshing.
More water: My sister, niece and I went to the beach at York, Maine last week for the day. Loads of people were out on Long Sands Beach, enjoying the sun, sand, sky and each other. I knew the water was extra cold– 58F/14.4C– but we had to wade in a little. Wow– the contrast between air and water was something! It felt shocking and prickly and a little painful; but the overall sensation was fully engaging.
Crunching sounds: during my meditation retreat, while doing a morning sit, we were encouraged to let ourselves be aware of sound around us. This included birds, wind through the trees, the rustling of our fellow meditators, our own breath– any sound could become the object of our attention.
I noticed the distinct and surprisingly pleasurable sound of tires on the gravel way outside our meditation hall. The deep crunch of rubber on rock left me very pleased. And wanting more of it. So, when we next did a walking meditation, I put on my red-strapped Teva sandals and headed out for the gravel path, planning on exploring crunch.
I was not disappointed. From bigger rocks to sandy spots, my sandals made contact with sounds and tactile sensations. They varied, creating a banquet for me to sample from. Honestly, I totally recommend this for anyone who’s feeling stressed or overwhelmed, as immersing yourself in the sound and feeling of something crunchy beneath your feet will reboot you to original human factory settings in the best way. Try it.
The color green: during my visit with Jennie and her family, we went to the Knoxville Botanical Garden. It is a well-cared-for space for wandering, contemplation and enjoyment. What I really enjoyed that day was the Bamboo Forest, with many shades of green.
Being surrounded by one color in so many configurations felt wonderful for my eyes, my imagination and my love of the world. Thanks, nature, for such variety!
One last comment: On the cover of this post is the watermelon slushie I had at York Beach. It was its own universe of sensation: intense manufactured sweetness from the fake watermelon taste (not exactly pleasant, but certainly unavoidable), and the piercing brain-freeze feeling from taking too big a sip. We all remember summer brain-freeze, don’t we? It’s a mid-summer thing. Feel free to try it if you dare.
Happy mid-summer!
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