My morning walk is often my total-immersion-in-the-landscape time. I’m usually very visual as I walk, taking in the colors, shapes, light, sparkle, and shadows. Today, even though we had the most colorful sunrise in weeks, well really, the only sun appearance in weeks, I started noticing the auditory landscape. First, it was the gurgle of fast water in the ditch at the side of the road, making a rhythm as it drops about a foot at a rock. Then there was a higher pitch water sound on top. A bird piped in with whee-whee-wheeee. At my other ear, chip-chip, chip-chip. More birds, each adding their unique pitch and pattern. There I was, transported to drum circle and remembering when all I could hear was the rhythm I was playing, then gradually being able to hear other rhythms even as I played my own, and the grand rush of delight, after several weeks, when I could hear all of it together. And then we learned to sing while we played our drums. Thanks, friend and colleague, Candy, for that fabulous education. This morning I felt immersed in the origin of music.
I learned this kind of deep listening from a practice we do in Nia. It’s just one of 16 lessons in the Nia Art of Sensation Training. There are 13 White Belt Principles, a couple of sessions at the beginning of the training to establish an optimal learning environment and lay foundational philosophy, and a celebratory review at the end. That’s 16 juicy weeks if you choose a one-a week online environment. Another option in-person is 16 sessions over the course of a one-week retreat.
I find I personally use elements of this training in my life every day. The content may apply to your work, your play, your family time, how you choose to be in your retirement. I’d love to share it with you.
