Walking Meditation

Part 1: Mindfulness 

My favourite practice that I learned at Plum Village is walking meditation. When most people think about meditation, they think of sitting silently and following their breath. Likewise, Buddhaghosha (a 5th Century CE monk) tells us a story of an elder monk who asks some younger monks “In what way have you seen bhikkhus attaining Nibbána [in this instance, likely meaning a deep peace of mind and presence]— up till now?” And they answered “Till now we have seen them attain Nibbána sitting in their seats.” (Buddhaghosa, Visuddhimagga, p. 286). And why wouldn’t they? This is precisely the instructions of the Buddha himself. As The Sutra on the Four Establishments of Mindfulness instructs, the practitioner

“goes to the forest, to the foot of a tree, or to an empty room, sits down cross-legged in the lotus position, hold his body straight, and establishes mindfulness in front of him. He breathes in, aware that he is breathing in. He breathes out, aware that he is breathing out.” (‘The Sutra on the Four Establishments of Mindfulness’ in Awakening of the Heart: Essential Buddhist Sutras and Commentaries, Thich Nhat Hanh, p. 104)

But the Buddha didn’t only instruct us to sit and follow our breath. Indeed, this is the first of a long series of practices that the Buddha teaches us. In minute detail, The Sutra On the Four Establishments of Mindfulness sees the Buddha instructs us on methods in observing our breaths, our bodies, our feelings, and our minds. Moreover, in a telling passage on observing the body, he reminds us that “when a practitioner walks, he is aware, ‘I am walking.’ When he is standing, he is aware, ‘I am standing.’ When he is sitting, he is aware, ‘I am sitting.’ When he is lying down, he is aware, ‘I am lying down.’” (Ibid)

This is an early description of what we now call ‘mindfulness’. Namely, deep insight into the nature of what is, now. If we are sitting, we pull our minds back from its dispersion in past and future, and we focus deeply on the feel of our body in the act of sitting. When we walk, we gather our mind from the many places in which it occupies itself and pour it into the act of walking, understanding fully and enjoying that in this moment we are walking. If we are drinking tea, we cultivate a profound appreciation for the quality of the tea. Each taste a reminder of the wonderful privilege we have, of sitting here and drinking our tea; each sip an entry into the present moment. Whatever we do, eating, drinking, sitting, walking, we enjoy this activity with the most awareness that we can offer it at this time (and we try to have compassion and understanding for the awareness that we are unable to offer it at this time, also). Mindfulness is the energy that we gather from concentration and insight. Concentration on the present moment; insight into the nature of the present moment. And having a present moment is a true blessing! As my teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh is fond of saying, “present moment, wonderful moment”.

I’m not sure when the practice of walking meditation was formalised as a practice. The above reference to practice while walking is one of the few references to this sort of practice in the early sutras, that is, the sutras that are likely to go back to the time of the Buddha. But Buddhaghosha’s story, written approximately seven centuries after the early sutra, sees the elder monk teach the younger monks the practice of walking meditation: 

“I shall now show you one attaining Nibbána while walking.” He then drew a line on the walk, saying, “I shall go from this end of the walk to the other end and return; when I reach this line I shall attain Nibbána.” So saying, he stepped on to the walk and went to the far end. On his return he attained Nibbána in the same moment in which he stepped on the line. (Buddhaghosa, Visuddhimagga: The Path of Purificiation, trans. Bhikku Ñãnamoli, p. 286)

Part 2: Walking Meditation

Buddhaghosha’s story shows us that at some point between the life and teachings of the buddha and the way the practice developed over the 700 years that followed, inspired by the written and oral teachings of the Buddha that were in circulation, a formal practice of walking meditation emerged. However, Buddhaghosha reports precious little detail, and so what these practices looked like in the time of the Buddha or just after, we don’t really know. But the textual evidence presented, as well as an understanding of the teachings that have been preserved in rich detail, provides a good basis for practice.

There are two kinds of walking meditation that we practice in the Plum Village tradition. However, they are certainly not unique to Plum Village. Zen Buddhism and Theravada Buddhism both have foundational walking meditation practices, as do many other Buddhist traditions.

The first kind of practice can give birth to moments of supreme presence and beauty. This is when we slow our walking right down. Right, right down. Probably slower than you are imagining. Even slower. We take a deep breath in, and we concentrate our focus on each aspect of walking: our foot as it first steps up from the ground, the pull on our hip as we lift our foot up, our backs gently tilting from left to right, the top of the foot being placed first on the ground, followed by the heel. We breath out slow, and we repeat. Once per step. In a Zen circle I sometimes practice with, we move even less, taking a tiny step forward every half a minute or so. This kind of meditation is generally practiced in the meditation hall, after a sit, or often between sits. This allows practitioners to persist in meditation for longer periods of time, punctuating each 30–60-minute sit with 10-20 minutes of slow walking. Like a delicious sandwich, a slow walking meditation is the beautiful spread of hummus and roasted aubergine in between two slices of sitting meditation bread. Yum!

The second kind of walking meditation we practice is a little quicker, but still a lot slower than usual walking pace. Taking place outdoors, this kind of walking meditation is a wonderful invitation to not only enjoy our walking, but it also acts as a gateway to observe with fresh present eyes the glory of the natural world. Using our breath as a guide, we take 3-5 steps per breath in, and the same on the breath out. Usually, we practice this in groups, but we keep silence. At an appropriate vantage point, we stop and stand, mindfully observing the wonderful jewels and diamonds that lie around us. The trees, the plants, the butterfly’s, and ducks. The feel of the fresh air against your face, the glorious sunshine or the refreshing rain.

As we walk, we can repeat a gatha (that is, a short poetic verse that we say mentally in rhythm with our breaths) to ourselves with each step. You can make one up that works for you in that moment, but I like to repeat “present moment, wonderful moment”, or “every step is a miracle, every step I am free”, or sometimes out of a sense of affirmation and gratitude toward life and my feet (who do so much work supporting and carrying around my body), I repeat: “Yes, yes, thank you, thank you”.

Walking meditation, like many types of meditation, challenges us to forego our usual habit of a productive mindset. We walk to get somewhere. We walk to lose weight. But do we ever just walk for walking’s sake? When we do this, when walking becomes an end-in-itself, we can experience intense joy and happiness. Rambling without a destination. How wonderful!