Last summer, during a training hike, I met a couple who had completed the PCT in 2015. We had a great discussion about why they enjoyed it so much and what it took to complete it. I then ask them whether I was too old, and they laughed and shared that an 82-year-old was keeping up with them during sections of their hike. The conversation concluded with this summary remark; “it’s a mental journey, not a physical one.”
As I’ve thought about that conversation, I have wondered how can 2,650 miles all be in one’s mind. I started meditating with the Corvallis Zen Circle ten years ago to develop my awareness. Jon Kabat-Zinn, internationally known for his work as a scientist, writer, and meditation teacher, defines awareness as “paying attention in the present moment, non-judgmentally.” I asked my Zen teacher, Abby Mushin Terris, for a Koan to guide my inquiry. Koans are unanswerable questions, at least through our everyday thought processes. After listening to my description, she offered the following Koan, “what mind is walking?” This question yielded some immediate surprises.
The first surprise is that during the early weeks when I was getting angry, depressed, or anxious about the hike, I could trace that anxiety to what I describe as my thinking mind. The thinking mind is a magnificent problem-solving machine, but it’s best when it has good information. At the start, I had a limited understanding of what was in store for me or whether I could complete this journey. When people would ask whether I was hiking to Canada, the only honest answer I could give was “I hope so, but I don’t know.” These kinds of answers drive the thinking mind crazy. With no tangible information to go on, I noticed it swirling into ever-changing stories and distractions that fueled my anxiety.
The second surprise came from observing my body walking. Using my awareness, I observed my body’s sensations, emotions, and thoughts while hiking all day. Walking over continuously changing terrain is complex. It is no wonder that roboticists have taken decades to develop robots that can marginally imitate how humans walk. I noticed how my body anticipated and applied thinking in real-time. For example, I observed that a split second before I stumble, multiple parts of my body had shifted their position in anticipation of the stumble, such as my arm position and the tightened grip of my hands on the hiking poles. I was not consciously aware that any of these actions had occurred even after I stumbled. So the question then is what mind is figuring all of this out if it is not my thinking mind located in my prefrontal cortex.
After hiking 1847 miles, I can share some insights into this question. In my case, I have identified 32 minds that are walking, and this is still evolving. They are all directly involved with getting me safely through each 12-hour day. These minds include individual joints and muscles (left foot, right knee, left hip flexor, etc.), organs (lungs, heart, bowels, etc.), senses (sight, hearing, balance, etc.), and my thinking mind. One technique used in meditation practice is to use your awareness to observe individual parts of your body, known as a body scan. I spend about one hour twice a day doing a body scan. I connect with each of these “walking-minds” by observing them and establish a direct connection as the day progresses.
My third surprise is the most important. I observed that my body loves to walk. It’s not necessary for me to will my way mile after mile while playing pump-up music. I don’t need any motivation at all; my body is designed to walk, and it feels rewarding. This practice has taken a great burden from my thinking mind. Now that I am in direct contact with the crucial systems of my body needed for walking, my thinking mind can focus on what it’s good at, like planning my route, finding water, solving problems, and applying its creative capacity.
Before you write this post off as the rantings of a crazed thru-hiker, I suggest you try this for yourself. During a walk, spend time focusing on one part of your body, like your left foot, and see whether your relationship with it changes. When would-be hikers ask me, my summary remark will be something like, “it’s a mental journey, and you need to engage the intelligence of both mind and body.”
Here are a few photos from my first 150 miles in Oregon!
