Walk Like a Mountain. Innen Ray Parchelo

set of walking practices, each of which appears in the form of a journey.

       Part III: In-between Spaces

      • Introducing a second metaphor for walking practice, that of inhabiting in-between spaces, we meet a set of practices which take that form. In Chapters Nine and Ten we consider an additional four practices, with emphasis on newer practices which lead us beyond traditional Buddhist practices.

      The main chapters of our journey-book will use a journey form which is marked by the chapter title. In each chapter we reflect on the meaning of that phase of the journey. We identify a set of ten-plus foot practices, which combine Buddhist and modern affiliated practices. We’ll examine the origins and place of walking in Buddhist history, the forms of these distinct practices, describing the form and weighing the value of each. We’ll present simple step-by-step (so to speak) directions to make these strong elements of your practice.

      We’ll start off, as any Dharma practice instruction usually does, with a consideration of physical postures, body, foot and hand, and the importance of breath. We make some notes on accompanying equipment, not from the perspective of a ‘buyers’ guide’, but more to enrich the practice dimension of these practices. Finally, since not all Dharma practitioners are able-bodied, we look into how those with physical disabilities can modify foot practices for their use.

      You are encouraged to consider ways to direct your own practice to include foot practices. You can follow along the map of our journey. Alternately, if you have some appreciation for the general form of the practices (chapter 2), you can explore each of the ten forms (chapters 5-9) in whatever order you prefer. Chapters 5 through 9 divide the types of walking practice (which actually incorporate more than ten discreet forms). We begin in Chapter 5 with indoor forms, what most people are familiar with, introducing along the way the style of ‘Tai Chi walking’ which fewer people know. In Chapter 6 we meet takuhatsu or alms-round walks and some considerations of movement as a part of general monastic life. In Chapter 7, we try out some combined practices, where we walk and perform other practices, such as circumambulation, nembutsu or bowing. In Chapter 8, we look at the major long walking practices, including both the world-wide phenomenon of pilgrimage and the imposing kaihogyo practice developed by Japanese Tendai. In Chapter 9, we consider practices where walking takes on a symbolic form. In particular, we explore how the Pure Land schools envision their practice as a journey and how mandala practices are based on a journey metaphor. We close Chapter 9 by looking at two more recent methods, a primarily European model, labyrinth walking, especially the newer approaches to this practice, and, second, what Thoreau referred to in his writing as ‘sauntering’. The final new method emerges from 20^th century social activism and Engaged Buddhist activities, that is, using walks for social change.

      If you have been sitting before, you will find that your motionless experience can help to unfold the possibilities of foot practices. If walking is more of your first entrée into Buddhist practice, recognize that it is not a complete alternative to sitting forms. No matter how much walking you do, some experience with sitting practices is necessary to ground yourself in Buddhist practice. Later in your practice, as part of the teacher-student training decision process, you may choose, as I have, to focus in part or entirely on a foot practice. For the novice, it would be foolhardy to avoid the ‘refining fire’ of thorough and disciplined sitting methods.

      I further encourage you to approach each practice on its own merits, whether you have some experience or none. Practice each form as a new practice, one which invites you into a new way of meeting your body and mind experiences. As with any practice, it is foolish to judge the practice on a superficial exposure. You will need several months, even years, of regular practice to cultivate the forms and learn what it has to offer.

      However you approach or practice, embrace the journey. Dharma practitioners have made it their proving ground for centuries. As they say on the Shikoku, that Japanese pilgrimage which encircles Shikoku Island for 1930 km, dogyo ninin, “a practice of two together,” that none of us ever walks alone. We always have the company of centuries of walking Buddhists, of countless Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, all of whom urge us forward, urge us to use the road to penetrate the Way.

      CHAPTER ONE

      STIRRINGS FOR THE ROAD

      The green mountains lack none of their proper virtues; hence, they are constantly at rest and constantly walking. We must devote ourselves to a detailed study of this virtue of walking. Since the walking of the mountains should be like that of people, one ought not doubt that the mountains walk simply because they may not appear to stride like humans.

      To doubt the walking of the mountains means that one does not yet know one’s own walking. It is not that one does not walk but that one does not yet know, has not made clear, this walking. Those who would know their own walking must also know the walking of the green mountains.

      Mountains and Waters Sutra, Dogen, transl. Bielefeldt, Stanford University

WALKING – THE HIDDEN LIFE OF THE BUDDHA

      In the north of Sri Lanka, in the desert regions of Polonnaruwa, at a place named Gal Vihara, there is a magnificent and isolated trio of larger-than-life statues carved out of local stone. Representing “the vogue…of carving colossal images of the Buddha on the vertical faces of rocks” (The Art of the Ancient Sinhalese, Nirvatana, p. 22) which occurred in the 12^th century ce, figures are scattered about a barren landscape. The scale (one stands 42 feet tall) transforms the viewer into Lilliputian dimensions, barely up to the Buddha’s kneecap. Not unlike examples of Buddha statuary which began in India a few centuries after the Parinirvana, and appear all over Asia, and now in the West, the Gal Vihara Shakyamunis are represented in each of three classic postures.

      One is the reclining pose, with the Buddha on one side, with his head resting on his hand, both propped up on a tubular cushion support. This is the least common pose and it is unusual to view the trio together this way. The other two, which are close by, along with several more from other centuries, are posed in the most familiar postures – standing and seated. The standing can be with arms to the side, the over-length Buddha-identifying arms and hands flat to the thighs or with hands held in one of the familiar mudras, or, as seen elsewhere at Polonnaruwa, with arms crossed over the chest.

      By far, the most common Buddha pose, found in all sizes, all materials, located close to massive temple figures or, much smaller, tucked away in gardens, is the seated Shakyamuni. This is also true in secular art where seated Buddhas can be found as incense holders, wiener mascots (as with the Picton, Ontario product called Buddha Dog, see http://buddhafoodha.com) and the ubiquitous theme of countless cartoons of an ascetic under a tree or on a mountain top. An assortment of classic hand positions or mudras may be used, but the pose always shows Shakyamuni, sitting. Sitting in padmasana, sitting cross-legged, sitting straight-spined and sitting staring ahead.

      Of course there are mythologic depictions of flying Buddhas, even flying seated Buddhas, or occasionally, Buddhas standing amidst a crowd of followers, engaged