Monday, October 8, 2018

More Fall Walking

 Today's walk was a beautiful one, and I had the lucky opportunity to see the autumn trees foregrounding the foggy, somewhat eerie backdrop of a warm and humid day in Toronto. This time, the walking was around the Don Valley Brick Works, amidst a series of maze-like trails. I have more time to reflect as well on the importance of being in the present moment, just the same way as the trees themselves are gently reflected in the water. No single moment, I am reminded, is any more "tangible" than this beautiful reflection. And the natural clarity of the fall leaves reflected in the crisp water reinforced the fragility of that beauty.
  Can witnessing the beauty of nature help us to have different perspectives on our loved ones and relations? I believe so, but of course, it depends on one's mindset. Any number of mindsets can, and naturally do, emerge on such a nature walk.  One obvious mindset is, of course, to be so preoccupied with one's cellphone or inner thoughts, that they can't even see the things around them with any clarity. If a person is similarly caught up in worries about the future and anxieties about what is already passed, they will not have the heart or the mind to enjoy what is in their life in this moment.
    Another mindset, somewhat opposite to this, is a kind of possessive hyper-vigilance. I often see this in the form of people taking selfies or constant snapshots of the fall scenes, in hopes that perhaps some of that activity will literally "capture" the beauty around them and preserve it for future keeping. I also saw this earlier today when several young boys were pulling carp and catfish out of the local pond across from the Brick Works, treating the fish as though they were special "pets" that they could extract and throw back into the water at will. Naturally, the fish were struggling to breathe when the boys kept doing this, and I started to fear for the fishes' lives, almost to the point of wanting to warn the boys not to do this, for fear that the fish will die in vain. Although this action strikes many people as inhumane, I now start to wonder to what extent this attitude also applies to our relationships with people. Do we sometimes try to "hold" people in one pose or one place that is not conducive to their flourishing and life, rather than allowing them to swim naturally in the elements where they are most healthy? I attribute such a mentality to one of grasping and attachment.
   Often, people "kill" the moment by bringing a grasping mindset to it. I believe that it comes down to not being able to properly appreciate or enjoy things as they truly are in the universe, in their proper context. As soon as I find grapes that are particularly sweet or "better" than what I tasted before, I long to reproduce that exact same moment of tasting the grapes, by going back to the same place over and over again. Eventually, I "kill" the moment by trying to recreate it again and again, only to realize that I am simply poisoning myself through a grasping, comparing mentality. I think I am tasting something "new" every time when in fact I am mentally trying to repeat my previous experience of the grapes, holding it as a standard moment. The same goes with people as well. Am I really seeing the person in front of me, or am I only repeating a dream I had before? Knowing the difference requires a kind of mental reminder that the past and present are not the same.  And being in the present requires not clinging to any thought.
    I think that being with nature is really a good therapy to correct the mistakes of grasping on the one hand, and distraction on the other. But engaging with the natural world requires a light, open mindset of receiving nature's simple gifts, rather than trying to appropriate those gifts on the one hand or "zone out" on the other. At what point children stop enjoying nature and start wanting to keep nature as a pet, for me, is really a very tragic moment. It seems to mark, for me, the beginning of an acquisitive mindset, where one's identity is defined not by where they are but by what they can hold onto. And old age, conversely, is about going back to knowing where one is in this moment, and letting go of what cannot be held onto.

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