It seems that I am constantly being encouraged to think of many ways of becoming aware. The class I am taking, “Focused and Fearless”, has so many comments from people all over the world expressing what being aware means to them. They come at it from so many different angles.
I suppose that I also regard being aware from many different aspects. Each of them seems to serve me in different ways. There is, however, one fundamental way of being aware that is a routine foundation and cornerstone for me. In fact, it is my gateway to awareness. I am constantly returning to awareness of my body. I become more aware when I am first of all aware of my own physical presence. Then wonderful things happen.
Simple body awareness is how I first began to meditate. It is how I began my meditation practice. It has continued to be the basis of my deepening concentration. The physical presence of my body has been the launch pad to deep contemplation.
When I totally relax into the presence of my body, my whole self opens. I feel deeply. I see clearly. I understand in marvelous ways .
I first had to learn the sensations in all parts of my body. I had to disperse the cultural conditioning that lead me to be wary of my body and all it experienced. For a long time, it was the palms of my hands that were the focus of my awareness. I learned to feel the aliveness and vibrancy of my hands. That awareness then gradually spread to other areas of my body.
Right now, the feeling of my breath is a pivotal experience of awareness, but that is not all. The breath is an easy, go-to pivot for wandering concentration. But it is the relaxed, whole body awareness that takes me into the deepest concentration. It is my whole body that radiates bliss and joy.
Having this feeling of being body aware allows me to easily become aware of the world around me. When I am body aware, that same awareness readily extends to people I meet, flowers I touch or see, the ground beneath my moving feet.
When that awareness slackens, I instantly return to my own body awareness. It could be my hands or my breath. But mostly it is my awareness of my whole body: arms, head, legs, torso. It is as if I become a sponge, an open door of attention. I invite the world. I am ready to meet and absorb whatever or whoever is before me.
All this body awareness I have learned in solitude. I wonder what the role of being touched by someone else would do to expand body awareness. I am often reminded how a simple hug can bring on a wave of concentration and awareness. I wonder how the impact of massage might have a more beneficial effect beyond the simple sensation of touch and pressure.
Being able to fully absorb the sensation of being touched while remaining in the present moment, seems likely to awaken awareness on a deeper level. It seems to me that inviting such an experience would require a significant amount of trust.
I suppose that trusting myself and my body has allowed me to not fear the sensations of my body. It has taken years, but I now rely on my awareness of my body to make me aware of the world of which I am part.