Almost self-explanatory. The practice of meditation while walking.

A number of world religions and spiritual disciplines have developed some form of walking meditation.

In the U.S.A., there is growing interest in walking labyrinths. Grace Cathedral in San Francisco is a kind of clearinghouse of information on this topic.

Engaging the body and mind in extended, deliberate movement is a very common way to still consciousness and, ideally, allow you a moment of clarity to escape the complex thought patterns that restrict you.

You are to monitor all stimulus with intense focus, don't be satisfied until you feel everything your senses are exposed to.

The movement of the hip, the thigh, the rolling of the knee as the leg opens forward, feeling the heel press against the inside of your shoe and feeling the pressure of the concrete under your shoe- bringing it down, the ball of your foot cushioning itself inward and your toes grasping slightly as they meet the ground.

Each step taken with full comprehension and responsibility for what is felt.

Your eyes are not focused on any object; it's a blank gaze, leveled at the horizon. You see through your eyes and let them feel all that their gaze falls on. You take nothing for granted, paying attention to everything that makes its appearance known to you.

Taste and smell the air; feel it traveling through your nasal passages and down your throat, filling the belly with deep breath (tightening your abs slightly) and then exiting seamlessly from you as you exhale. The walls of your stomach expand like you're pregnant and each breath delivering energy to feed the baby. Feel the warmth there as the chi collects.

Your arms are carried low, with your hands resting at your sides, the fingers are gently curved inward as if you were holding or grasping a handle. You pay close attention, always conscious of your digits, keeping them in place and feeling the air lightly passing through your palms and over the back of your hands.

Your head is held in line with the spine; supported by the bone structure. The chin, slightly inward and your tongue pressing lightly on the top of your mouth, with the tip resting just behind your two front teeth.

You're completely aware of each body-part; its sensations and movement. No stimulus goes unmonitored.

Be humble, allow the world to clothe you in its midst and feel the silent lust and excitement of engaging a reality unburdened by the extraneous.

Walking.
You must learn again.

One foot
In front of the other,
Then advance. It is a kind of scissoring;
You are to cut through stillness with your legs.

And be deliberate about it,
Dignified. Appearances are important.
Appear, then, to note the odd car,
The hanging limbs of trees.
Avoid puddles.

Above all, do not talk to yourself.
Remember: you are moving
Alone and unaided. This is the object;
Other considerations should not come into play.
Refrain, therefore, from turning your head
To face an absent face.

You can't do this, you say?
Tough. Deal with it, anyway.
Light a cigarette, or whistle;
You may swing your arms for emphasis.

A few summers ago, I went backpacking in the New Mexico mountains just across the Colorado border. Backpacking is a fairly strenuous activity, made even more so by the relatively high elevations of much of New Mexico but strapping on a 50 pound backpack and charging up and down mountains can be a very satisfying experience. The nearest city was more than an hour away and the only man-made sounds we heard aside from our own was the passenger jet that flew over at 2:15 every day. Being out in the wilderness, far enough away from humanity that you can't even hear the sounds we make, tends to make one feel small and the world large. The night sky is not a canvas with flecks of stars painted on it but rather a deep and endless void that one might fall into at any time.

Life in the wild, where life is so much more difficult to maintain, falls into a ritual. Wake up, put on boots, take down tent. Hike, eat breakfast, hike, eat lunch, hike. Get into camp, set up tent, eat dinner, take off boots, sleep. There aren't too many people to talk to and there isn't much to do besides become good friends with your psyche. The repetitive nature of life in this state and the lack of distractions makes achieving a form of walking meditation easy. So easy, in fact, that you can do it unconsciously without even knowing what walking meditation is.

Meditation is, in many ways, the merging of the mind and the body, becoming aware of yourself. Most of the time we ignore the sensations that our body gives us. We tune out the sounds of our heartbeat, the feeling of air entering our lungs, the pressure of our footsteps. Walking meditation puts our minds back into contact with our bodies so that everything is deliberate and nothing is ignored.

The first step to achieving walking meditation is to walk (or jog). Anywhere will do but the more natural the setting and the fewer distractions the better. As you move you should fall into a natural rhythm, breathing in for a few steps and out for the same number of steps. You can count the steps in your head or just let the cycle happen. Repeating a mantra or focusing on something can also help: I frequently read and reread the brand of the hiking boots or the backpack in front of me, breaking the word down into syllables and thinking one syllable per step.

After a while of this, you'll notice that your thoughts tend to drift across your awareness without you actually thinking about them. Sort of like you're inside of a soap bubble and the thoughts are skimming the edges; you can watch them but you can't touch them without breaking the bubble. Let the thoughts drift in and out, live the daydreams, relive the memories, and enjoy the sense of satisfaction with the world.