Stand. Eyes softly open. We will not sit this through.
Find a small path — room or hallway — take slow honest steps.
Feel the feet. Heel. Roll. Toes. That sequence is the path.
Begin walking when ready. Slow enough to be true. Fast enough to walk.
Heel meets floor. Weight rolls. Toes push. Next heel is arriving.
Keep eyes softly open. Soften the gaze. You are in a room.
When the mind leaves the feet, come back to next contact with floor.
What is this step like — heel, roll, toes — without a story of where it leads?
Meditation that stands. It does not need a cushion.
Arriving with every step, meaning you are never only going.
If you reach a wall, turn without drama. The turn is walking.
Presence can move. Heel, roll, toes. That is enough intelligence.
Walk three more steps as if they were the whole journey.
What do the soles know that planning mind keeps skipping?
Just walk. Allow. No closed-eye sitting. Let the floor teach.
If the eyes want to sit you down, keep them open. Keep standing.
Hands can hang. Jaw can loosen. Walk stays in the feet.
There is nowhere else to get. There is this contact, then this.
If thought races the hall, return to heel. Then roll. Then toes.
Let walking be practice. Including the awkward steps.
Slow to a stop. Feel standing — both feet, eyes still open.
Return to ordinary walking, more in the feet, less in forecast.