Note to Steve: Walking to School

I'm walking to and from school every morning and afternoon now, about thirty minutes each way. The walk has three aspects: something outward, something inward, and something from above: to listen, to breath, and to observe a third thing, which remains a bit of a mystery for now. It's an exercise in observing obstacles, patterns thereof, almost always the spinning of a formatory process, then returning to the aim, re-calibrating, developing a sense/taste of attention allocated in more than one direction.

The tendency to improvise, away from the aim, is frequent. I think, let it go, return to the aim, listen, breathe, begin again.

I have begun focusing on listening for a time, then turning to the breath, then putting them together, then awaken, return to listening.

I imagine listening as if through headphones, listening remotely from Carmel Valley, the sounds of Africa, the increasing volume of a car as it passes, the sound of birds, a THX quality IMAX landscape.

Inhale, then release it, observing it, with quality, continuously, to the next break in the sidewalk, or the next light pole, or the next street, small goals, points of reference, marking continuity across discrete distances, to there, then to there.

Marking time on aim x distance this way is very helpful.

There is nothing more important.